Shattered Sky (63 page)

“I always have an opinion.”

“That's what I figured.”

Tessic leaned against a light post and crossed his arms. “I believe there are three possibilities,” Tessic said. “One: You and I are both entirely insane, your vision was a hallucination, and all these undocumented people around us are, as the Polish government claims, ‘refugees from war-torn Lithuania' that I smuggled in over the border.”

Dillon smiled. “I'd buy that.”

“Or, two: The universe truly is a living thing, as you say, and the bursting of stars is an immune response. Therefore, by allowing those nasty
dybbuks
to survive, you triggered an even greater immune response to protect us against them in the future.”

“And the third?”

“The third is simply this: By benefit of your mercy to creatures who deserved no mercy, the Almighty saw fit to gift humanity with a spiritual evolution.”

“And which do you believe, Elon?”

Tessic grinned mischievously. “I keep my answer close to my heart,” he said. “Between me and my creator.”

Tessic looked around the many benches of the park, as if looking for someone or something. “If your vision was a true one, we'll know soon enough—the first premature ones will be born as early as next month—but I think people are beginning to have suspicions.” Finally he spotted who he was looking for. “Ah, there she is. You see her?”

He pointed to a woman who sat throwing crumbs to a gathering of birds, with her husband beside her.

“They met shortly after they arrived here. A whirlwind romance,” Tessic explained. “She is yet to show, but she expects a child. She is three months along now.”

“Three months,” Dillon said. “Lucky her.”

“What caught my attention were the rumors. You see, there is an old custom; you hold your wedding ring on a string before your unborn child. If it swings side to side, it will be a girl. If it spins, it will be a boy. Do you want to know what the ring told her?”

“What did it tell her?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Tessic said. “But it turned from brass to silver before her eyes.”

“Silver, huh,” said Dillon. “Not exactly the golden touch, is it?”

“The child is yet unborn—give it time.”

“It won't be the same as it was with us,” Dillon told him. “There were only a handful of us. But in a few years' time—”

“—in a few years' time,” Tessic said, “we will all be obsolete. Cro Magnon men in a world of star-shards.” And yet he didn't say it with downtrodden finality, but with a strange effervescence.

“It doesn't bother you?” Dillon asked.

“Why shouldn't it? Ascension is not extinction, my friend. I'm sure our knuckle-dragging ancestors would be thrilled to know what they have become, through us.”

Dillon tried to imagine what the world would be like a hundred years—even ten years from now, with every child born a star-shard, but with his own powers of insight gone, he had a hard time envisioning it. Hundreds of thousands who could control weather and moods—just as many who could regenerate flesh, or bring life from death. And other powers as well—powers he had not even imagined.

“It's going to be a wild world,” Dillon said. “At least until
that first generation gets a handle on how to make it all work.”

Tessic shrugged. “Every great change has its growing pains. I can't help but think that the ones gifted with wisdom will be able to see us through the change.”

The pregnant woman stood and left, arm-in-arm with her husband. Others glanced at them and whispered. They didn't seem to mind.

“I have something for you,” Tessic said. “A gift.” Tessic reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small gift-wrapped package, handing it to Dillon.

Dillon removed the bow, and peeled back the shiny paper to reveal a box of blue Bicycle playing cards. An odd gift to anyone else, but not to him. Tears began to fill Dillon's eyes in spite of himself. In his life there had been so many simple joys that were denied him. Tessic understood. Perhaps better than anyone.

“Thank you, Elon.”

Tessic glanced at the sky, then at an unoccupied table. “It's a fine day for a game. Shall we?”

They sat across from each other, and Dillon pulled the cards from the deck, removing the jokers.

“Your shuffle,” Tessic said.

Dillon's hands were shaking, but he forced them still enough to separate the deck in half, then glanced up at Tessic.

“Go on,” he said.

Dillon flicked the left-hand cards into the right-hand cards, and wove them together again, and again and again, until the motion felt natural.

“What's the game?” Tessic asked.

“Five card draw,” Dillon decided.

“And the stakes?”

Dillon shrugged. “If I win, I get to keep that jet of yours that brought me here—how's that?”

“Agreed. And what if I win?”

“If you win, I'll name my first kid after you.”

Dillon dealt the cards face down. Tessic picked his up first, glanced at Dillon, but kept a fine poker face. Dillon could not read him at all.

Then Dillon reached for his own cards, hesitating. He had done this many times before, back when he still had his powers, and the burden of responsibility that came with them. He never needed to look at his hand then. A two-handed deal from a well-shuffled deck would always reveal for him the same cards: the deuce, four, six, eight, and a ten of spades; the direct consequence of dealing alternating cards from a deck in perfect order.

Now Dillon fanned out his cards to reveal: an ace, a five, a king, a nine, and a jack; two of them diamonds, two clubs and a heart. Although all his powers had been gone and he had been a “normal” human being for four months, this was the first time he truly felt it. His spirit was not only contained, but comfortable within his flesh. His sphere of influence was no longer defined by the gravity of his presence, but a function of his words and deeds.

“I'll take two cards,” Tessic said.

Dillon dealt Tessic his cards, then looked to the randomness of his own hand once more. He had always been order in the face of chaos—but here chaos was looking him in the eye, and he had no weapon against it beyond the luck of the draw. Until this moment he never knew how beautiful not knowing could be. In his cards—in the world, there was an unmarked future out there. He would be a participant, but only a participant, like everyone else in the world. He would play, but would no longer bear the burden of redesigning the rules. Which meant that no matter what cards were dealt him, he had already won.

“What do the cards tell you?” Tessic asked.

“Everything I want to know.”

Dillon kept only the ace of diamonds, and with all his soul threw caution to the wind.

ALSO BY NEAL SHUSTERMAN

NOVELS

Antsy Does Time

Bruiser

The Dark Side of Nowhere

Dissidents

Downsiders

The Eyes of Kid Midas

Full Tilt

The Schwa Was Here

The Shadow Club

The Shadow Club Rising

Speeding Bullet

Unwind

UnWholly

What Daddy Did

THE SKINJACKER TRILOGY

Everlost

Everwild

Everfound

THE STAR SHARDS CHRONICLES

Scorpion Shards

Thief of Souls

Shattered Sky

THE DARK FUSION SERIES

Dreadlocks

Red Rider's Hood

Duckling Ugly

STORY COLLECTIONS

Darkness Creeping

Kid Heroes

MindQuakes

MindStorms

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storyman.com

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2002 by Neal Shusterman

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Book design by Hilary Zarycky

Jacket design by Chloë Foglia

Jacket photo-illustration copyright © 2013 by Pete Harrison

The text for this book is set in Granjon.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Shusterman, Neal.

Shattered sky / Neal Shusterman.

(The star shards chronicles : book 3)

Originally published by Tor, 2002.

Summary: Inhabitants of a planet taken over by a terrifying power flee their world, planning to conquer a new one, and only five powerful teenagers, possessed by shards of a shattered star, stand between them and Earth.