25 - Cello

For breakfast, we crunch Zribble in silence. Syianne's glassy stare shoots straight ahead. I try to fall into her line of sight but she has an uncanny ability to look exactly where I'm not. I guess that at some point last night she changed from faking to actually sleeping, but it was absolutely clear that she didn't want to talk to me. She's going to give me the silent treatment until either I get angry at her or she decides that I'm conversation-worthy.

I don't care. I'm not going to get angry or play at her game; I'm not even going to ignore her back. I continue to skim through the articles in today's edition of The Rockdem Word, my finger flying as I whisk away article after article. I bite the nail of my thumb, searching for anything more about the riots. I sense her eyes on me; I know she's curious as to why I'm reading the paper with such intensity. I pick up yesterday's paper and show her the article.

"Look at the photograph, looks familiar?"

Her lips move slightly as she reads, she looks at the photograph and looks directly at me, "the Lemming?"

"Yeah, and Corabana Square, that's right next to the Zephyr. Can you imagine something like this happening and no one so much as mentions it?"

She gives a little shrug of her shoulders, as if not quite ready to discuss anything with me yet, even though her silence had been broken.

"Something's going on." I begin to rub my chin and stop, realising that I've grown a fair amount of stubble, "I feel uneasy."

"Something is going on, but it has nothing to do with us."

"It has everything to do with us," I shake my head. "We've already been played, Syianne, they only want us in a team to keep us under check."

She doesn't seem surprised. "Is that such a bad thing?"

"You mean, you're alright being controlled by other people?"

She sighs, "Of course not. Of course I want to be free. But I'm not free, we're trapped here forever and we can't escape. And that's how it is, and that's what we've got. I don't want to live a dismal life and I don't want to be alone."

I lean across the table knocking over a box of Zribble and grabbing her hands. "We can leave, we can just go. We can do it you know, and survive. Someone already has, and you won't be alone, you'll have me."

She looks at me for a long time, her brown eyes still and quiet. For a moment I think she's considering, a part of her wants to take off, a part of her is rebellious. Then she smirks and pulls her hands out of mine. "I'll have you? Until you decide that I'm not worthy enough to confide in. And where will we go? To Tagrya? The Darabin? Rockdem is as foreign as I'm willing to go, this is my home. Besides, we'll be in hiding forever, do you think the world outside will accept us if they know what we are?"

My lips press into a line, "I'm sorry about yesterday, I just — "

"It's my fault for trusting you," she cuts me off. "At the end of the day we're each in this alone, isn't that the truth?"

Her words sting and I shift in the chair, wishing I could find a switch to turn off her anger. "That's not how it is," I say defensively, "I was wrong yesterday..."

"No." she says drily, "You weren't wrong, you opened my eyes." She looks at the clock on the wall and rises to her feet. "We better go, it's getting late."

*

"Syianne," she's sitting next to me in the rail-car, our shoulders rubbing occasionally when there's a turn. Her head is turned away, directed at the window, at the city that's zooming by. There's always something to look at while driving through Rockdem, every neighbourhood is a little bit different. But I've already established the fact that I don't care much for cities.

"Syianne," I say again, but no matter what, she's not going to give me any of her attention. So I simply take it, I gently but firmly grab her chin with my thumb and finger and turn her head to face me. She glares for a moment before her head snaps back. She raises her shoulders and scrunches away from me. I grab those shoulders and turn her to me, this time I smile at her glare. "Stop being such a baby."

She tries to shake out of my grip. "Just leave me alone."

"I need to ask you something." I feel her relaxing a bit and she fixes me with a look that says she'll endure me for just one question. "You said something is going on at the Zephyr, what is it?"

Her expression changes, maybe it's wishful thinking, but her face seems a little bit softer. "I overheard something I shouldn't have. Two Blacks were discussing some sort of prophecy or something called the Scribbles that talked about Spares arriving — specifically a thirteenth Black — and then I met him and he's only twelve but very bad-tempered. And there was something about 'new ways', it sounded like a conspiracy that's going on inside the Core."

New ways? I heard that before when Leolan told me the story of the Alprine-holder Belgrun. "So we're somehow connected to all this, but how?"

"I don't know." For a moment she seems like she forgot to be mad at me and we look thoughtfully at each other. "What could we possibly do if we knew?"

I smirk, "Get in trouble, of course."

*

The atmosphere is a little bit lighter when we finally arrive at the Zephyr that morning. I can't say we're fine because there's no knowing with Syianne and I still haven't told her about my date with Risa Medrick tonight. I don't want to tell her things before I know whether or not Risa was being serious.

Before we enter through the gates, Syianne grabs hold of my sleeve, stopping me. I turn to look at her, "what is it?"

She points down the street, far past the closed cafés, at a single chair on the pavement, and on it a man drinking his morning coffee and reading the paper. "That's Kraven, the manager of the Lemming."

She starts walking towards him. I look around us as I follow her — it's remarkable how clean the streets are, it's hard to believe that there was even a riot. Here and there the outer walls of buildings sport fresh paint and the flowers in the flower-beds have been newly planted. Aside from that there are no traces left of the violence.

Until we reach the Lemming. The broken window has been neatly boarded up and the wooden door of the bar leans against the outer wall glistening with a fresh layer of varnish. Through the now doorless entrance the inside of the bar is still a mess of glass and broken furniture, all covered in a fine layer of ash.

"Morning," he greets us. He's holding the newspaper in one hand and in the other he balances a cigarette and a plastic cup filled with black coffee.

"Good morning," Syianne says hesitantly, as if she forgot why she came this way.

"Let me guess," He puts down the cup and lets the cigarette dangle from his mouth. "You're wondering about this?" he gestures to the bar behind him with his coffee.

Syianne gives a short nod with her head.

"Renovations." He answers.

"You mean renovations that have been forced upon you?" I ask.

"All renovations are forced on an establishment like mine, whether it's eventual or something other than that."

"So there really was a riot here?" Syianne asks, "why'd they smash your shop?"

Kraven shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip of his coffee with his cigarette still in his mouth. "It's what they do every time they riot. This business has been in our family for the past sixty years, and it's always the same cycle. There's a financial crisis, people get fired and can't find jobs, they get frustrated and then angry and then riots, riots, riots until some poor bloke is lynched and the Council moves its butt." Even at home everyone rants about the "financial situation". I know nothing about economy, but apparently Meda's economy keeps shrinking. It has to do with low birth rates or something of the sort.

While nobody in Aafta can claim to be rich, all the financial crisis ever was, was a scary combination of words. Everyone in Aafta has a roof over their heads and enough food to eat.

But it's the sort of topic that once someone starts talking about, there's no stopping them. "Rockdem is like a cooking pot for fanatics too." Kraven goes on, "You get all the country bumpkin coming here thinking that Rockdem's the life. They don't find work, they get addicted to substances and it's all the tax-payer's money that supports them in rehab later. The Council is too lenient with these people. In the sixty years the Lemming's here, it got burned down four times because the city's full of madmen."

"Wow." I'm impressed, mostly by their determination. My comment seems to egg Kraven to continue.

"Best location in the city, but also the worst. Nobody really understands what the whole Zephyr thing is about, no offence meant to you Stones, I like getting business from you as much as from anyone else, but I end up having to pay a very high premium insurance."

"So these riots are connected somehow to the Zephyr?" I try to make sense of his words.

"You know how that saying goes, the one with the worst enemy, you know, that famous thing that Council member Courtly said – " He waves his hand in the air as he tries to recall.

"Meda's greatest foe is the unknown?" Syianne quotes.

Kraven brightens up and points at Syianne, "that one." He gets up and spills the muddy dregs of his coffee into the mess inside the bar. "So you Stones are the unknown and that's why you've always been the enemy."

*

Xeprim is busy and doesn't have time to talk to me today, Sagastus doesn't even bother to arrive for Syianne and we're told by Xeprim's skinny secretary that today and for the rest of the week until the Plunge, we have to study for a written examination and we'll also get a Plunge simulation course with a yellow Jewel who works illusions. We're each given a tablet on which is an endless amount of information about colourful energy rising and falling and spreading and collecting and distribution.

Overall, it's not so bad; it's the pleasantest and most relaxing morning we've had so far since we arrived at Rockdem. We go outside and find a nice spot on the small lush lawn near the main dome, at the foot of a tall old peach tree in full blossom. Spring sunshine pours down our backs and stray pink peach petals flutter around us as we read through the tablets. Who'd have thought that I'd find studying so calming?

By noon I'm certain that Syianne has forgiven me entirely. I'm lying on grass, my jacket bundled up as a pillow under my head. Syianne copies me and rests her head on her bag.

"I don't get this part," I say, squinting at the paragraph as I re-read it. "When the interior value of an energy bead is reduced the hue abstraction that results causes a rise in light potency? Isn't that also what happens when the interior value is increased?"

Aside from the day being utterly relaxing, nothing I'm reading makes any sense to me. Syianne is better than I am at getting these abstract scientific concepts, or maybe she's just good at translating the text into words I can understand. This time, however, she doesn't reply. I lift my head from my jacket, "Syianne?" Her tablet is faced down on her chest with both her hands spread over it.

I sit up carefully and look down into her sleeping face. For some reason, her peaceful expression makes me smile at first, and then I feel my face grow hot as I blush. Suddenly she turns on her side with a sigh, her hand falling onto my thigh. I'm afraid to breathe, in case I wake her, and I don't know what to do with myself. I decide to retreat; I slowly lie back down, and pick up the tablet, pretending that I didn't notice her sleeping.

I try to read, but the words become a jumble of twiggy lines. I'm thinking about how striking her long dark lashes are when they're resting against her pale cheeks, and I'm a bit too aware of the weight of her hand against my thigh. I feel a lump rising in my throat and swallow hard to keep myself at bay. I have to remember that thinking that way about Syianne is a very stupid idea.

I'm rescued by the arrival of lunchtime, or more specifically, Fellin Quaine shows up. I hear his voice from somewhere across the lawn as he chatters loudly with I-don't-know-who. I seize this as my opportunity to wake Syianne, tapping her shoulder and making her start. She looks at me as if she can't remember who I am and where she is and then she breathes a sigh of relief. She sits up just as Fellin and another girl walk into sight.

"Fellin," I wave at him and when he notices me he smiles so widely that his head nearly splits in half.

"Cello! Syianne! Is it true?" he asks, running up to us. Syianne straightens out her hair and uniform.

"No," I answer automatically, then I backtrack, "wait, is what true?"

"Did you two trash Old Flent's office and then get an offer to join a team? Endry from Green told me that at today's Core meeting thirteen people were in favour of your being on a team! She said it was really weird that all the blacks agreed on something, that's never happened before. Everyone is talking about Cello Riles this and Syianne Locke that -- I saw you two yesterday and you didn't mention any of this..." he stops himself and I suddenly feel guilt flush through my body. Fellin must feel he's out of the loop. Actually, we hadn't talked to him about anything that's happened.

I don't know how to respond. Everything transpired so quickly, being a Spare, being slugged by Leolan, learning I can fly, being forced to join a team — I haven't even had a moment to really think anything through. Not a second to kick back and worry about how my mom is doing without me and what my life is going to be like from now on.

"So it's all true?" Fellin lowers his voice.

"Hey, do you want to come visit us at where we're staying?" I ask

"Where are you guys staying?"

"Come together with us at the end of the day."

"Okay." Fellin looks significantly brighter. "Are you hungry? Kaitha and I are on our way to lunch, we might finally fulfil the promise to have lunch together."

I look over at Syianne, who seems to have drifted back into herself again. She's lost in thought and I wonder, not for the first time, what's going on inside her head. "Yeah, I think we need a break from studying, we'll come with you."

I rise to my feet and offer Syianne a hand up — she accepts it without hesitation, allowing me to pull her to her feet.

"Wait, you're Kaitha, as in the much talked about cousin Kaitha?"

The girl in question smiles at me, "the same one," she coos. She looks like how I imagined city girls would — thin, short, with blond hair and bright skin. I've seen this type of girl on television — like imitations of some prototype of a plastic doll.

I shake her hand. "Nice to meet you, this is Syianne, we're..."

"We've met," Kaitha concludes with a smile still plastered on her face. "So that's what Leolan was after? He came to fetch you personally and all, I'd just faint if it were me. He's so hot up close."

I begin to scratch my head in confusion and look at Syianne, "Leolan came to get you personally?"

Syianne latches onto my arm and blinks her eyes innocently. "Jealous?"

"Yes of course, I think Leolan is hot too." I joke.

"Me too." Fellin joins in.

Syianne laughs. Because she doesn't laugh as often as I'd like her to, we're all surprised into laughing as well. "Let's go have Zribble," she says.

"Oh Zribble!" Fellin chimes as we head towards the dining dome.