Daystar (89 page)

***

Ravil looped her arm around Calpsan’s.
 
She tripped on the ends of her new pants.
 
She grabbed at the fabric with one hand and followed.
 
Despite his limp and age, Calpsan’s long legs moved him faster than her short ones.
 
She ran to keep up.
 
“You have that little time left, that we must run into this slum?”

Calpsan stopped and looked at her, his face lined with deep wrinkles.
 
“Speak with a lower voice; you are passing as a boy, Ravil.”

Ravil blushed and spoke in a whisper instead, “Sorry, Calpsan.”

He gazed at the market.
 
“It is not safe for you on your own.”
 
He gestured towards the building they neared.
 
“We find your guard there.”

She eyed the neon light and garish paint.
 
“What is it?”

Calpsan smiled.
 
“A place of ill repute.”

Her eyes went wide.
 
“Why do we go
there
?
 
I don’t want to go in it!”

“He is there.”

“
He
!
 
But you said men here prey on children!”

He put a finger to her lips.
 
“Your
voice
, Ravil.”
 
He led her across the street.
 
“Not this one, Ravil, not with one like you.
 
He will guard you as long as you have use for him.”

“How do you know this?”

“I have locked in on his temperament.
 
He has traits that we will be able to exploit, do not worry.
 
I will see to him before we part ways.”

“But what if something happens to him, what then?”

“Then you run.
 
You use your gift and flee.
 
Damn them if anyone sees you, they will never be able to capture you.”

“We don’t even know that I can.”
 
She frowned and looked to the smog-filled sky.
 
“And where would I go anyways?”

“Your gift will come naturally when you need it to.”
 
He tugged on her hand.
 
“You’re afraid; do you wish me to calm you?”

“No.”
 
Ravil shook her head.
 
“I wish my wits about me for this encounter.”
 
She gazed up at him.
 
“No one will replace you, Calpsan.”

Calpsan spit out a shed tooth.
 
“Your loyalties are fierce.
 
Hold on to that fire, Ravil, you will need it.”

They eyed the stairs together.
 
Ravil took a deep breath and fixed the hat that covered her ice white hair from view.
 
She pulled her hoodie over it, shadowing her face.
 
“All right, let’s get this over with.”

“That’s my boy.”
 
Calpsan tapped his nose and winked.
 
He hopped up the stairs with surprising agility.
 
Ravil stumbled after him, banging her knees every other step.
 
She practically swam in her new clothes; too big so as to mask her feminine features.
 
The bulky shirt also hid two knives strapped to her slim hips.
 

Calpsan opened the door and smoke poured out of the building, a mixture of grease and cigarettes.
 
Ravil leaned away from the smell.
 
He gave her no chance to complain; he interlaced their fingers and pulled her along.
 
He sensed the premises and found the feelings of the one he looked for.
  

A woman stepped in their way.
 
“How can we help you?”

Calpsan gazed past her.
 
“Towards the back, a cleaning area.”

She nodded.
 
“The showers.”
 
She held her hand out to collect payment.
 

Calpsan glanced at the chalkboard of prices.
 
He paid for both himself and Ravil and she let them pass by unhindered.
 
They walked past tables, men ate or engaged in cards; none looked up at the man and child.
 
Ravil kept her head down, trusting him to lead her.

Calpsan knew exactly where he headed.
 
He stopped at the bathroom door and listened.
 
Ravil examined the writing on it, but she did not know the language.
 
He pushed open the door and pulled her in.
 

Steam filled the room.
 
It was warm, hotter than outside, but it smelled of soap and clean things.
 
Ravil relaxed.
 
Then she saw
him
, a man wearing nothing but soap bubbles and scars.
 
Her eyes slid down his neck, to his chest, his sculpted stomach.
 
She averted her eyes and turned red.
 

Rake assessed them in seconds.
 
He put his hands on his hips, his lips curved into a smile.
 
“Hi.”

Calpsan nodded to the man.
 
“Good day.”

Rake nodded back.
 
“Watch or fuck?”

Calpsan struggled to understand Rake’s accented English.
 
“Watch?”

Rake shrugged.
 
“You pay for you both.”
 
He turned away and gave his hair a third rinse.
 
He hummed and ignored them.

Calpsan threw coins at Rake’s clothes.
 
He nudged Ravil to a wooden bench.
 
“Come on then.”
 

She sat and stared at her feet, mortified.
 

Calpsan squeezed her fingers and spoke softly, though the sound of the water drowned them out.
 
“Stop that.”

Ravil shook her head.
 
“He’s…he’s...”

“Naked, yes I know.”
 
Calpsan looked around.
 
“We are in a shower room.”

“Why can we not wait outside?”
 
She covered her eyes.
 
“Why must we stay here?”

Calpsan frowned.
 
“I do not have much time left.
 
I need to observe him and so do you.”
 
He pulled her hands away from her face.
 
“Ravil, you are supposed to be a boy, not a shy girl.
 
Pretend you’ve seen men naked before.”

Ravil swallowed hard.
 
“Is he still facing away?”

“Yes.”

Ravil looked back to Rake.
 
She tried to keep her thoughts clinical.
 
He had nice feet, muscular legs, good for running.
 
He moved from foot to foot quickly, good reflexes.
 
He was strong, well built, a fighter.
 

She watched soap slide down his calves and into the drain.
 
Her eyes caught on a scar that ended at his ankle.
 
Long and jagged; the scar curved around towards the front of his thigh and she lost track of it.
 
She skipped over his midsection and stared at his back.
 
Bruises covered his skin and shared space with scars and cuts.
 
Some looked new, others old and healed.
 
He had barely a patch of skin free from damage.

Calpsan followed her gaze.
 
“He fights and lives through it.
 
He is a survivor.”

Rake moved along with the music that came in from the door.
 
He half turned and noticed them watching.
 
He flashed a disarming smile, his teeth straight and even.
 
“Any requests?”
 
They shook their heads and he turned away.
 
He leaned down and picked up his bottle.
 
He took a pull and resumed his dance.

Ravil let out the breath she held in, she had been ready to cover her eyes if necessary.
 
Rake scratched his shoulder.
 
The movement drew her gaze to his hand, then what was beneath, a blue tattoo.
 
She gaped and leaned forward.
 
“A star chart.”

Calpsan squinted.
 
“Where?”

Ravil cocked her head.
 
“On his shoulder, tattooed, stars from the perspective of this place.”

“Anywhere important?”

“No, not tactically.”
 
She frowned.
 
“It is crude though, a two dimensional rendering, it does not have the codes.”

Calpsan patted her knee.
 
“Ravil, Wasters don’t have those things.”

She slipped out of her calculations.
 
“Oh, yes.”
 
Rake being naked set in again and Ravil bit her lip.
 
She stared at the back of his head.
 
His black hair and dark skin reminded her of the millions of others outside, but his face set him apart.
 
He spoke in the language of the other empire, the Americans, though with an accent she did not recognize.
 
She caught the flash of silver, a thin chain around his neck.

Rake turned around and looked them over, soap drifted down his chest.
 
He took a shot from his bottle and stared at Ravil, his gaze curious and disapproving.
 
He glanced at Calpsan.
 
“Is the kid here for training or selling?”

Calpsan spoke slowly, “Training.”

“Not the best place for it, I can lead you to a better place, for a price.
 
What’re you, a Femi-boy?”

Ravil translated his words in her head.
 
She gaped as she realized his meaning.
 
“I—I—”

Calpsan pinched her.
 
“Yes that is what he is.”

Rake shrugged.
 
“The market is ruthless for your type.
 
I hope you have him chipped or branded, makes others less likely to steal him.
 
You’re not from around here, so that bit of advice was free.”
 
He turned back to the hot water.

Calpsan shuddered.
 
He stared at the door and turned so that his body blocked Ravil’s.
 
Her chest heaved in fear.
 
“Are they here?”

He shook his head.
 
“No, not Hunters.
 
It is someone else with violence on their mind.”

Ravil looked between Rake and Calpsan.
 
“We stay?”

Calpsan nodded.
 
“Stay and watch.”

The door opened and two men stepped in.
 
They did not spare the pair a glance, their gazes fixed on Rake.
 
The one closest to the door pulled out a knife.
 
Rake’s casual stance became less relaxed though he kept his back to them.
 

Ravil held on to Calpsan.
 
“Why aren’t we warning him?”

“If he cannot save himself how can he save you?”

The knife wielder stepped towards Rake, speaking more of the native language Ravil did not understand, but the tone was unmistakable.
 

Rake smiled.
 
He turned and leaned against the tile suggestively.
 
He looked the men over.
 
“No freebies, I don’t care what I supposedly owe you.
 
No you’re not getting any money either.”