14 - Syianne

The Doorstep Lodge, like the Lemming, combines a dance bar with a boarding house. Unlike the Lemming, it is a well-oiled establishment, the rooms are bigger and newly renovated and most of them seem to be occupied. There's a seedy feeling in the air though, and it isn't only because Heign Valley is the most intimidating place I have been to in my life.

No one knows what I am. I had taken the precaution of wearing a wool cap over my forehead so that my diamond is out of sight – but I feel anxious, frightened for my safety, worried about Cello. I'm restless, pacing back and forth in the room, sitting on one of the bunks and staring endlessly at the phone that just doesn't ring.

I take a long shower and spend a reasonable amount of time drying my hair, but time doesn't pass. I try to sleep and then to read a book, but I can't concentrate on that either.

I'm hungry, though I'm afraid to leave the room and go to the grocers that are across the street. I'm afraid that they'll call while I'm away, I'm afraid of the street and the dodgy people there.

I munch on some of the raisin biscuits my neighbour back at home made and try to relax. It's strange eating something that tastes like home, it's strange how despite all this chaos, the biscuits are plainly normal and solid. I consider the possibility of going back home, or even back to the Zephyr, but both seem like the wrong choice for me.

Who'd have thought? Only sixteen and already a fugitive with nowhere to go.

*

The phone bleats like a donkey in my ear. I jump up and hit my head on the upper bunk. The room is in semi-darkness and the flickering lights on the phone are almost blinding. I guess eventually boredom won over and I had fallen asleep, I stumble forward and fumble with the phone, nearly dropping the receiver before I could bring it to my ear.

"He-hello?" I hoot like an owl, my voice still sleepy and hoarse. "Art?"

"It's me," Cello says. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Are you?" I feel a twinge of anger towards how he left me without consulting with me. He can make his own plans as long as they don't involve me. I'm not just something that can be thrown into a rail-car and shipped away.

"I think he stopped following me the moment we separated." Cello cuts straight to the point. "You haven't seen him around there, have you?"

"I don't even know what he looks like," I snap, fighting to keep myself from yelling at him over the phone. "I haven't left the room since I arrived; I was waiting for you to call, what took you so long?"

"Good." He doesn't answer my question. "Don't leave that room, don't let anyone in. I'm on my way; it'll take a while because I think I'm on the other side of this damned city."

"Cello, this is crazy, we should go back."

"Don't leave the room, Syianne," he says and hangs up. I yell his name into the receiver, but he's long gone.

Now time passes by more quickly, because I'm seething with anger at that infuriating boy. I curse the fact that I'm stuck with him, and that he's an idiot and insanely paranoid. I curse my biological parents for being such a mystery and the Zephyr for being nothing of what I expected it to be.

I get it all out of my system, and when I'm done, I'm completely fine again. I'm relaxed and ready to face everything and anything the universe sends my way. I sit back down on the bunk and start munching another biscuit.

A knock comes from the door.

I leap up, this time careful not to bump my head on the upper bunk and am halfway to the door when I pause. "Who's there?" I call.

"It's me," says a voice that makes me forget where I am. I claw at the bolts on the door, struggle with the lock and finally manage to open the thing.

"Art!" I exclaim. I feel a babble of emotions run through me; my head is such a mess I can't make sense of anything. My happiness is cut short as my eyes come to rest upon another figure standing next to him, another boy dressed in an identical training camp uniform.

I look quizzically at Art. He shrugs. "Syianne, this is Reed, Reed, this is Syianne. They let me go because the camp hasn't officially started yet but they wouldn't let me go alone."

I nod at Reed, who doesn't nod back. He has the sort of face that's in a permanent scowl and altogether seems like an oversized, hulking piece of pink meat to me. His eyes are small and round and too close together, his chin is so square it looks like a brick. I don't like him, I don't want him here. "Come in," I say quietly and step back to allow the two boys to enter my room.

After I close and lock and bolt the door, Art turns to me with a concerned expression. "What's going on?" he whispers, his face pinched with concern.

My eyes flicker to Reed, the stranger, the outsider. "Later," I mouth.

Art and Reed seat themselves on the chairs next to the small table, I sit on the bunk.

"It's not like I wanted to come," Reed says after a long silence. "She your girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Art says.

Reed turns his gaze on me; he's got the same "holier-than-thou" air that that man from the Lemming had. He sizes me up and appears to decide that I'm worth his attention. "You a student here?"

"No," I reply simply. "You're from Rockdem." It isn't a question; I've come to recognise this particular hard and brutal tone as Rockdem behaviour.

"Born and bred." He cocks his head. "Why you wearing that hat?"

I clear my throat and take it off.

Reed jumps to his feet. "Dude! Your girl is an Untouchable?!"

We both blink at him. Of course, Jewels are also sometimes called Stones and sometimes Untouchables; I guess the latter is because most things in the Medan law book don't apply to us. Even if we're guilty of murder, we don't get punished. We're outside society. Jewels are born to human families but have an almost extraterrestrial status.

Neither of us replies because even in the dim light, the answer is rather obvious. Reed doesn't need a reply, he laughs mockingly. "How do you make that work for you?"

"Just fine, thank you for asking," Art replies coolly.

"She been in yet?" he asks. Art's blank face makes him shake his head. "You can't date one of them after they been in."

"In what?" Art asks, looking at me questioningly, as if I'd have the answer to anything.

"This kid I knew, Elrick from Dravey dated a Stone. Then after she went in, one touch and Elrick's been in a coma for the past three years. I am not messing with you, man, they call them Untouchables 'cause they can't be touched by no one except their own kind."

I smirk. "What nonsense."

"You been in, Stone?"

This boy is unnerving me, even though I haven't been in like he says, I get a feeling that he's not as full of bullshit as I want to imagine. "She has a name," Art says in a low voice. He rises to his feet and crosses the room, sitting next to me on the bunk. "Don't talk to her like that."

"You been in or not?" he asks.

"No," I reply truthfully, but I'm not sure about anything. Maybe I was in without even knowing?

He scowls at me, "I wouldn't trust what she says, man."

Art wraps his arm round my shoulders. My breathe catches in my chest, Reed's jaw drops.

A moment passes and nothing happens. The three of us release a sigh at the same time. "See?" Art says. "Nothing to worry about."

I smile as he kisses the top of my head and simultaneously, I begin to worry. Is that why leaving is forever, because sooner or later, if I go into the Zephyr itself, I'll become Untouchable? Not only socially, but physically as well? As Artus hugs me, my heart speeds up painfully and my blood pulses with fear. Is there really no hope for me and him? I inhale his smell deeply, am I really going to lose him?

I choose to believe that what this Reed says is just some silly superstition that Rockdem citizens have. They're bound to have a few of those; they live too close to the source of all the trouble.

*

A knock comes from the door and I stiffen in Art's arms. Reed is reading a magazine in the corner, I forgot he was even there, I forgot I was here; I've managed to sweep my mind clear of everything that's happened. Now I'm bristling with nerves again as I gingerly approach the door. "Who's there?" I call.

"It's me," Cello's voice comes from the door. I don't feel relief knowing that it's him. If anything, I feel more tense. Art is not going to like the fact that a boy like Cello Riles is anywhere near me. In the three weeks that we've turned from friends to more than friends, I've learned that what I thought was mere brotherly protectiveness on Art's behalf is actually a slight jealous streak.

Actually, I'm as jealous of Art as he is of me. And that's exactly why I know that meeting Cello would drive him insane, because if I were in Art's place, I'd feel the same thing.

I take my time with the bolt and the lock, Cello pulls the door open and lets himself in. He looks from Art to Reed, to the open windows, to my exposed forehead. He doesn't greet anyone, just dumps his bag on the floor as he pulls the curtains shut over the windows. We're all looking at him, but he doesn't seem to care. He takes off the hat he was wearing and rubs the side of his head "I think they were trying to drive us apart," he says. "Either he returned to report to them or he's had a change of plans."

"Syianne," Art's on his feet. "Who's this?"

"We met yesterday. Briefly," Cello says. "I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to stay," Art replies.