The Diamond Deep (45 page)

A group of five identical women dressed in flesh-toned mesh with sequins sewn over their crotches and breasts pushed between Satyana and Ruby, and Ruby held her hand out to them. “Greetings.”

They practically simpered.

Excess surrounded her. Opulence.

Many of the partygoers might as well have been screaming
look at me, look at me, me, me, me.

By the time a small serving bot was able to push through the crowd, Ruby was thirsty and her voice felt ragged.

Gunnar Ellensson came up shortly after the serving bot and took her arm. “Allow me to tour you.”

KJ took her other side. Dayn and Ani moved to join them, but Gunnar waved them away.

Dayn looked angry, and Ruby gave him a small hug and whispered in his ear, “I'll be all right.”

He didn't look happy, but he stepped back, taking Ani with him.

“Let's go.” Gunnar led them through an irising door and along a short tunnel into an entirely different bubble than the large one that held the party.

Ruby gasped and slowly turned from side to side, taking in the view of cliff faces adorned with hanging vines in a flourish of flower so thick it appeared that rivers of purple and blue and yellow ran down the cliffs and disappeared into striking blue, green, and orange-red forest foliage. Paths wound through meadows. A stream ran in the center of the whole thing, burbling over rocks and through flowers.

Gunnar gave her a few moments before he spoke. “This is as close to a planet as you can see anywhere on the
Deep
, or anywhere in-system except on Lym and Mammot. I designed it so that I had a place where I could feel at home.”

“This is all for you?”

“And for my family and closest friends. It is also a gymnasium—there are climbing paths and rope paths and other challenges that neither of us is correctly clothed for now.” He looked at her dress, a pale yellow that clung to her hips, lined with soft gray fringe that swung as she walked. Soft gray boots came up nearly to her knees, open at the top and loose so that she had to walk carefully to make them feel right. “I can point them out to you, and perhaps you will grace my home again in the future and try them out.”

He took her hand in his. She allowed it for only a moment, and then took it back. His skin had felt dry and warm and he had squeezed her hand as if wanting to keep it. “You lead,” she said.

He pointed out flowers and trees, naming them. The path was firm enough under her feet that she felt secure even in her heeled boots. “This is really all yours to decide what do with?”

“Of course. I made it.”

Back on the
Fire
, she had always loved parks. They were where she went to take refuge, to think. Where she ran. Where she met her friends. Where she held her parties. The idea of creating and owning a park of her own was one she understood even while it offended her.

Gunnar pointed out a climbing route that KJ asked questions about, giving Ruby time to sit on a bench and rest her feet and her voice. The air smelled better than any air she had ever smelled anywhere, like plants and water and flowers and with almost no hint of humanity. The faintest breeze blew stray hairs softly against her cheek.

Every time she turned her head a new wonder appeared from amidst the profusion of life. A small green bird with a long beak sipping from a red flower. A tiny vine clinging to a tree trunk, covered with pink flowers that nearly obscured pale green leaves the shape of hearts.

This was prettier than the graphics in the game Adiamo, fresher than the park at home on its best day, more astounding than her first sight of the aviary had been.

The aviary was available to anyone who could spend the credit to visit.

This . . . this was private. It belonged to one man. The sheer weight of expenditure astonished her. And yet Gunnar Ellensson had been described as a rich merchant. As one of many. Satyana had shown her a froth of private bubbles.

Ruby wanted one of her own. She wanted to design this much secret beauty, to have it to retreat into with her family. She could imagine choosing trees and flowers, shaping waterfalls. Waterfalls! She had never imagined anything so rich, so beautiful. The fact that she wanted it made her tense and angry.

What else did this excess, this beauty, imply existed on the
Deep
? The garden surrounding her defined power in a far more subtle way than the vast bubble-party and its glittery crowd.

The contrast between this place and the Brawl mixed up inside her heart and her stomach, souring it. Or maybe it was already sour from whatever illness dogged her. Regardless, even in the bright, fresh air she felt like throwing up.

Ruby still felt faint an hour later when she stood on the raised stage. Color swirled below her. Multicolored faces peered up at her. Bots and human servers danced through the crowded floor. Three drummers remained on the stage, standing in a loose semi-circle around her. They felt too close, as if herding her toward the edge, but she couldn't exactly turn around and hiss at them to leave, nor could she explain that she felt dizzy still, and the edge seemed too near her feet.

Gunnar Ellensson spoke from the far corner of the room, his voice loud and commanding. Even the robots stopped for him. “Allow me to present Ruby Martin. She is the queen of flame, a leader from
The Creative Fire
, and an ambassador for her people who come from our past.”

He let a beat of silence fall.

Ruby stood still.

People watched her.

Gunnar continued. “Ruby has agreed to grace us with three songs. Let's welcome her.”

Hands clapped and two people whistled.

The drummers began a steady cadence.

Ruby took a deep breath and forced out as genuine a smile as she could muster. “This is a song for one of us who is now dead. He was like a grandfather to me. He taught me to be brave and to be curious and to hope when there is no hope.” She started “The Owl's Song.” Some of the audience knew it. They must have watched the video of the actual funeral, which now seemed so far away she no longer recognized the girl who had barely been brave enough to sing there.

At the end, the applause was loud although she couldn't tell how sincere it was coming from this strange crowd. She said, “Thank you. Thank you. I am so pleased to be with you, to be part of this great station.” She took a deep breath, watching the faces below her. She kept her voice even. “That was a song from our past, a song from before I knew I would be in the generation that came home. Before we knew anything except rumors that our long, long journey could come to an end.”

Here and there a glass clinked or weight shifted.

“Now I will sing you a song about coming home.” She sang “Song of the Seed,” drawing out the last chorus:

 

Together we are a seed

Preparing to open in the light

Of Adiamo. To flower.

Again the audience clapped, and a few called out for favorite songs.

This was her moment of truth. A moment to decide.

She had written a song about these people. Well, not really. A song for them. A song to show them what they needed to know, to remind them of what they refused to see. She wanted to sing the song for Gunnar Ellensson, whom she had decided was kind and confusing and cruel all at once. The room was full of people with the resources to transform life on the
Deep
. She hadn't quite finished the song . . . but almost. She could do it. A little improv. Maybe sing with no accompaniment since she couldn't give the drummers anything.

She stared down at them. Were they ready? Was the song? Was this the place?

Her stomach felt cold.

She put her head down and her hands down, and then she lifted both again. She cued the drummers to go into a steady beat.

Her throat tightened, and her stomach heaved. She realized this might not be recorded. These people might hurt her. They were in a small private place.

She bowed her head again. “Sorry,” she mumbled, and then she began a lullaby from the
Fire
, a soft, sweet song that left the audience silent for a few breaths before they clapped harder than they had for the first two songs.

She felt as if she had failed in spite of the roaring applause that rose up to engulf her. In another venue, if she felt stronger, she might have turned to give them one more song. Instead, she walked off the stage without looking back.

Allen had finally found a decent live band to play the bar. The threesome played about ten instruments between them, and the girl who sang lead had a high sweet voice. Even though she had none of Ruby's power, she was pleasant both to listen to and to watch, and Onor made sure he picked a table where he could see her.

The bar was full and loud, and they'd squeezed in two more tables and hired a waitress. Allen noticed him and sent the new girl, Evie, over to take his order. Evie was a dark bit of a girl with a bright smile and an admirable figure, if slightly on the thin side. She recognized him immediately; a good sign. “Onor! What can I get for you?”

“How about one of the
Deep
wines—a white, maybe? And some flatbread and fruit.”

“Coming right up!”

He watched her walk away, wondering if she was much older than Haric. She had the form of a woman, but he'd bet she was no more than sixteen. She was probably still in regular school. Well, at least she'd be too busy to get in trouble.

His drink appeared before his food, and Evie was sharp enough to add water to her tray and then ask him if he wanted it. They'd had fifty applicants for the job based solely on word-of-mouth. Apparently they had chosen well.

It took longer than he expected for Haric to join him. At least the wine was good. Great, in fact. On the
Fire
, everything alcohol had been called still, but here there were numerous words for alcohol and smoke and other drugs. It almost seemed that separating things with different names made them more unique, and better. By the time half of the wine was gone, he felt pretty good. The decent singing didn't hurt either. Unwinding had some value to it; he actually couldn't remember the last time he had been able to just sit still.

After a while, it seemed he'd been sitting too long. Onor had started seriously fidgeting by the time Haric showed up and slid into the seat opposite him.

“Did you get lost out there?” Onor asked.

Haric shook his head. “Just tired. No work. I asked at four or five places, figuring that ship's work would be good. I got as far as taking one test, but I botched it. I just can't get the hang of the tech here—it's so subtle.”

“I'm not doing much better. Ix is teaching me some, though. I can set you up with a lesson tomorrow.”

“I'll take it. This place makes me feel like an idiot.”

“Well, you're not. Did you see any of our cargo?”

“I walked the whole Exchange twice. Nothing. But I have a plan. I'll put it off a day, for the class. But then I think I need to go.”

Evie came up, bringing the container to pour Onor more wine and an extra glass for Haric. Haric gave her a broad smile. “Thanks, Evie.”

She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, but her eyes held a deeper affection that her actions gave away.

Haric sipped from his wine, smiled softly. “That's good.”

“I'm glad I chose something you'd like.”

Evie left, and Onor raised an eyebrow at Haric. “I've never seen you flirt before.”

Haric actually blushed.

“You do know her?”

“Of course I do. I've known her since we were all on the
Fire
. We play games sometimes.”

Onor refrained from asking what kind of games. He'd been dreaming of Ruby when he was Haric's age, and near her all the time without being able to touch her. He did love Marcelle, but nothing had ever erased his adoration of Ruby. If Haric managed better than Onor at the same age, well, that was a good thing. “Tell me about your plan.”

“There are other Exchanges. Surely Koren wouldn't be reselling anything of ours in this one. I can get to Exchange Four with a one-day ride. I thought I'd ask if you'd sponsor me on such a trip.”

“All by yourself? I'd go with you if I could, but both Joel and Marcelle need me.” He started at the table. “It's too much risk for you to go alone.” Ruby would hate that.

“It's got to be done,” Haric protested. “Besides, you're the one who suggested I be sent to look.”

“To our Exchange.”

“So? This one must be like that one. It will only be a two-day trip.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“That's why I need a sponsor. I'm pretty sure SueAnne won't let go of enough credit for me to buy a room anywhere.”

Even though he'd championed this trip to Joel and SueAnne, Onor hated the idea now that it was happening. “I'll send you credit. Take your slate. Message me when you get there.”

A big hand clapped Onor on the shoulder, and he turned his head to spot The Jackman and Conroy. “Hey—I haven't seen enough of you two. Buy you a drink?”