The Last Singer (The Falcon Chronicles Book 1) Page 4

  “Put up your hood, Brynna! Keep up.”

  I jerked at Father’s harsh commanding tone. I hesitated before slipping the juba hood over my head and pushing my long hair in at the sides. Intent on arranging my hood, I accidentally bumped my elbow into his back when he halted beside a guarded entryway.

  He went rigid.

  I stepped back.

  Jarryd put his hand on a glass plate. A light flashed green and he moved forward through an opening in a steel barricade. Father spoke to an official then beckoned me forward. The man positioned my palm on the glass pad. A green light scrolled under my hand.

  “From now on, your hand print will be your passport into the city,” said Father.

  When the machine malfunctioned and my palm had to be rescanned, he started to tap his foot.

  “Are you done?” Father asked the guard.

  I’d never heard him so impatient with others. He was a different person on Hypor. One I didn’t know.

  The official nodded but looked embarrassed. “Yes, Councilor Bokk.” His salute was crisp as we passed through the barricade into a sterile concourse.

  Artificial lighting and dull beige walls sunk my spirits further. I wrinkled my nose at the smell. It hinted at floral but with a chemical edge. Apart from the guards, we were the only people present. Father’s cold demeanor offered no reassurance. When Jarryd said ‘bye’ and walked away, I wanted to call him back and hang on tight.

  I fought my growing nervousness with boldness.

  “Where is everyone?” I decided I wasn’t moving a step further until I’d seen signs of other human life.

  “Working. “Father consulted his watch. “It’s after ten. No one is allowed in the halls without permission during working hours.”

  “What if I have to go—?”

  His glance condemned my audacity and I shrunk into silent timidity.

  Across from us were four double doorways. Off to the right and left, the lobby narrowed into passages that curved with the dome wall. Father pointed to a metal sign and corresponding map. “A hallway runs inside the perimeter and leads to the tubes that are linked to other domes. The administrative offices are here in the main dome, where you will be working.”

  I had no idea what the other areas would be like. Less barren I hoped. I closed my eyes and thought of the lush forest of home, but the image of colorless walls remained. But there was no point in griping. I had no choice. I was here to stay at least until my first work break, which seemed a hundred years away instead of a month.

  “After I drop my case in my office, I'll escort you to your workplace.”

  I hugged my belongings to my chest. Father’s coolness was making me edgy. He seemed as remote as our island.

  “Don’t dawdle, Brynna.”

  We approached another set of doors. Father pressed a button and they opened. I realized it was a lift.

  We shot up silently for several seconds. I focused on the level indicator to take my mind off feeling trapped in the small space. We quickly reached the tenth floor.

  When the doors slid open, I followed Father but halted after several steps.

  He glanced at me, then continued toward his office. “Close your mouth, Brynna. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  My teeth clamped shut but my eyes were popping. Life was definitely better at the top of the dome. The filtered light was warm and bright, highlighting several paintings of Hypor City hanging on the walls.

  A soft cream carpet partially covered a multi-colored slate floor. Several deep-cushioned indigo chairs bordered the room. A polished stone table took center stage. Atop it was a glass sculpture of a gyrfalcon—its wings starting to spread, its beak forward, eyes eager. The artist had captured the elegance and majesty of the bird. My glance caressed every glistening curve.

  I felt Father’s presence beside me.

  “Time to go,” he said but remained stationary.

  “Falcon...” I choked, thinking of Circe and home, so far away.

  “Yes.” A momentary wistfulness filled his voice. “We must go. Your supervisor is expecting you.”

  I caught a glimpse of the father I knew. The warmth of his smile was a welcome balm and soothed me as we approached the lift.

  When the doors opened, I moved forward but he grasped my arm, pulling me close to his side.

  A short, dark-haired man with a florid complexion strutted out of the lift, then turned and bowed toward a striking woman who followed. Five females in purple jubas flanked her.

  “Premier Delio.” Father acknowledged the head of the Council of Ten with a nod, but he bowed to the woman. “Genetrix.”

  Genetrix? The title caught my attention. What was the head of Prima Feminary doing in Hypor City?

  Everyone knew Premier Delio’s name. Alongside my father's tall frame, he looked insignificant, but he was head of the ruling council. He wore an ornate crimson robe that veiled his portly figure. His thin smile never wavered as his eyes narrowed. His gaze shifted between Father and the woman, like an animal trying to decide where to strike. When he glanced at me, I felt an icy shiver baste my shoulders.

  The Genetrix was impressive. She was my height and coloring but appeared taller because a mass of dark hair held her hood several inches above her pale face. Her hands were bare, their only distinguishing feature being long fingernails filed to points. The one exception was the small nail of her right hand. It was long but rounded at the end and appeared whiter than the others. Her purple juba was styled as mine but edged in gold. A small pouch hung from a metal chain around her hips. Her only adornment was a necklace with a prominent pendant. A large clear stone surrounded by wavy gold lines that radiated from it.

  Were my eyes playing tricks? The stone changed color continuously. First yellow, then orange, red, purple, blue, green then a slight hesitation at white before repeating the colors.

  “Brynna!” Father grasped my hand when I didn’t immediately respond, then drew me forward. “Genetrix. Premier. This is my daughter, Brynna. This is her first day of work.”

  When I looked up, three sets of eyes watched me—Father’s with annoyance, the Premier’s with disdain, the Genetrix’s with curiosity. She moved toward me. Instinctively I stepped back, then came to a standstill. It took me a moment to comprehend that I hadn't halted on my own. Something had immobilized my legs.

  I panicked when I felt an unusual vibration and detected a high tone. The Genetrix’s eyes were fixated on my face. The sound was coming from her.

  The men appeared unaware of what was happening.

  I hated being controlled but couldn’t break free. Her hold was too strong.

  She took my chin and pushed my face toward the light. I dropped my eyes, concerned that she might detect my lens, but her nail points dug into my flesh and my eyes flared open. For several seconds her gaze bore into mine, as if searching for something.

  I distracted myself by examining her face, as she did mine.

  It was difficult to determine her age. Unusually deep folds surrounded her eye sockets. Her skin was smooth, pulled taught over her cheekbones. Her pupils were fathomless, disturbingly enigmatic, but something about her mouth was vaguely familiar. It was puzzling. I couldn’t make any connection.

  She frowned slightly, released my chin, and my legs, and dismissed me with an abrupt turn of her shoulder. Her five acolytes continued to watch me, their heads slightly dipped, their eyes alert. When I moved out of arms reach, they shifted their attention to the men. I sensed they were a protective detail. But why would the Genetrix need guards in Hypor City? Were these women also Femin?

  “Is there a meeting I wasn't told about?” Father’s voice was icy. Angry vibrations rippled along my skin.

  “Not at all, my friend.” Premier Delio’s words were smooth but I detected an undertone of deception. “I was just about to notify the councilors of the Genetrix's arrival.”

  Father’s gaze shifted to the Genetrix but she gave no indication of the veracity of the Pre
mier’s words. Instead, she watched the drama play out between the two men.

  Delio continued. “We'll meet in the board room in say...half an hour?”

  “Fine, I'll see you then,” said Father. “Genetrix.” He bowed slightly as she and her entourage followed the Premier.

  As they walked away, the premier made a low comment. The only word I heard was ‘prophecy.’

  I waited until they disappeared into an office then whispered. “I could feel her—”

  Father's raised hand stopped further questioning until the doors of the lift closed behind us.

  “You mustn't mention anything about the Femin. Never while you're in Hypor City. You know that.”

  “But why is she here?”

  “The council has trade agreements with Prima Feminary, Nuvega and other smaller islands. From time to time, the Genetrix travels here. Sometimes a representative from the council makes trips to broker deals. It’s all part of normal business.” His smile was reminiscent. “I met your mother on a trade mission to Prima Feminary many years ago.”

  “Was that before singing was banned?”

  Father nodded, cleared his throat and his expression grew serious again. “Which is why you mustn’t appear curious about the Genetrix or Femin. You mustn’t do anything that will draw attention to yourself.”

  “I know. Mother explained it all.”

  “So you understand why your heritage must remain hidden. If revealed, it puts your life and your mother's in danger.”

  Mother’s life? “How can that be?”

  “Think, Brynna. If it’s discovered that you sing and that you are a healer, the Genetrix might attempt to convince the council that because she trained you, your mother is also in violation of the ban.”

  “No.” I shuddered at the thought that I might be responsible for hurting my mother.

  “Be careful what you do or say. You never know who might be listening.” He patted my shoulder. “I don’t want to lose my only daughter.”

  His warm hand gave little comfort. I’d become an adult but my graduation present felt heavy on my eighteen-year-old heart.

  Pride lit his eyes when I squared my shoulders and spoke with more courage than I was feeling. “No one will ever know my secret.”

  8

  An Old Friend

  The lift descended for several seconds before the doors opened.

  “This is level six, where you will be working,” said Father. “Other floors are off limits unless you are escorted by a supervisor.”

  “Why?”

  “One of the rules.” His warning glance squashed my second ‘Why?”

  The harsh overhead lighting made me squint as I peered right then left, eager to see where I’d be spending most of my time. It was another beige hallway, this time interrupted by pale blue doors. Small labels on each door were their only differentiating feature. Red switches alternated along both sides of the corridor.

  “What are they for?” I pointed to one as we walked.

  “They are for emergencies. A fire, which is unlikely, or flooding. A medical emergency would also qualify. You’ll learn the regulations.”

  Rules for everything. They irritated me like an itch I couldn’t reach.

  “Here we are.” Father opened the door with the sign Media lab.

  Inside was brighter than the hallway. People were busy at computer stations clustered throughout the space. Across the room, ignoring the two men attempting to converse with her, Calia leaned one hip against a desk. Her juba looked too large on her short, curvy frame and the hood flopped forward half covering her forehead. Arms crossed, she watched us enter but stared as if we were strangers.

  It had been over three months since I’d seen her. I wanted to run and give her a hug but instead gave a discreet wave. A little surprised at her lack of response, I waved again, but she turned her back to me and started talking to her colleagues.

  It was then I noticed the bespectacled gaunt individual stooped nearby. His parchment cheeks hollowed as he inhaled. He rubbed his boney hands together, fawning before Father.

  “Brynna, this is Supervisor Dench. He’ll explain your job and help you get started.” Father tapped his watch. “I’m late for a meeting. I hope my daughter will prove herself.”

  “I’m sure she will be an asset, Councilor Bokk. I am most pleased to have her in my department.” His tone was deferential but lacked sincerity.

  I swallowed a laugh. The man was what Calia would call a slimy tool, but his deferential posture made him appear harmless. I glanced at her hoping to share the moment, but her attention was on a video screen.

  Dench escorted Father to the exit before commanding me to follow him to his office. The respect he’d shown Father didn’t extend to me. He settled into a chair behind a metal desk while I stood waiting for an invitation to sit that didn’t come. His cheeks expanded and flattened like bellows as his index finger stroked a computer screen.

  “So, Brynna Bokk, your file says you have some proficiency with languages. Which ones?”

  “Some of the old European languages. German, French, Spanish—”

  “And Italian?” He raised his brows, his gaze more intense.

  I hesitated. “A little.” I felt an impulse to be vague, wondering why his question was so specific.

  “A regular little polyglot, aren’t you?”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant, but the sarcasm was clear.

  “Yes, well, hmm…” he referred again to his computer screen. “I understand you know Calia. She’ll show you around and work with you today, but tomorrow you pull your weight. Come with me.”

  I followed Dench as he stalked from his office. He called to Calia who rose from her desk and approached. He told her what he wanted and gave her a plastic card then returned to his office. She stuck out her tongue at his receding back and grinned. Her familiar cheekiness made me smile.

  “I’m so happy to see you again, Calia. I’m really excited that we’re working together.”

  “Don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself or Dench will make your life miserable. He’s a slimy little tool. Just ignore him and you’ll do fine. Come on, I’ll show you where we sleep and eat.”

  We left the media room and took the lift down to the main floor. We followed the hallway around the perimeter of the dome.

  “There are lots of domes,” said Calia. “Unlike me, I expect you arrived in a lander and saw them from the air, as well as the tubes that connect them. Some tubes are long and have movers or moving walkways, which make the journey quicker. This is us through here.” She pointed to an arched entrance.

  She went to step on a mover but quickly changed her mind.

  “Let’s walk. It takes longer.” She winked. “I’m not excited about returning to work too soon.”

  I wanted to ask about her job but got distracted by the view of the water through the clear wall of the tube. “Oh, how beautiful. And the sunshine.”

  My spirits escalated as I watched the sun sparkle on the water. I looked up expecting to see blue sky but the ceiling material was opaque, only the sides of the tube were transparent. In the distance, I could see similar passageways. After the dull beige of the interior, the view was encouraging and comforting. I wanted to linger.

  “You’ll get used to it. Come on. We have to keep moving or someone will get suspicious.”

  “Suspicious of what?”

  She shrugged. “Anything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. Just be careful. In time you’ll understand.” An edge of sarcasm cut through her words.

  “Calia…?” I grabbed at the sleeve of her juba.

  She ignored my hand and nodded forward.

  Always stubborn, I knew she’d only share if she wanted to.

  “This is the nearest foodpod.” She pointed to a dining area.

  The space was as sterile as the dome entrance. White tables aligned in long rows were flanked by metal chairs. A tall bank of empty racks stood
along one beige wall. The faces of the Council of Ten members adorned another wall, but the frames were larger than those I’d seen before. I was getting used to the floral scent and the constant hum of the large circulating fans.

  “Clear out! You’re too early.” The gruff voice belonged to a grizzled man hobbling toward us. He wore a spattered apron over his clothing. A small cap covered only part of his bald scalp. “You shouldn’t be here at this time of day without your supervisor.”

  “Leave us alone, we’re not here to eat,” said Calia. “She’s a new recruit.” She tilted her head toward me. “I’m showing her around, and I have a passcard.” She flashed the plastic card and turned to walk away.

  He grunted, surprising me with a quick wink. I hesitated and had to hurry to catch Calia. When I looked back, he was gone.

  “Who is that man?”

  “That’s Grub, or at least that’s what everyone calls him. He thinks he owns the place. I don’t know why the council tolerates people like him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s a nasty old cripple with no respect for his betters. He always gives me grief when he sees me. One day he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

  I was surprised by the hard edge in her voice and changed the subject. “Can anyone eat here?”

  “Yes, but it’s mainly the admin workers, like us. The food is brought in on those.” She pointed to several trolleys near the racks. “Everyone just helps themselves to what they want.”

  “How’s the food?” I hoped it was more appetizing than the surroundings.

  Calia shrugged. “Some like it. You can judge for yourself at lunch.”

  We crossed the foodpod before veering right toward another tube. This time I noticed an arrow and a sign.

  Dormpod.

  The entryway split into two open hallways. Signs indicated men to the left, women to the right. There were no doors or other barriers.