Excerpt: The Law of Stars

Aya Basalt paced the cold, white hall outside the lab, dread forcing her heart to her throat. She had not forgotten the feeling of terror these sessions produced, but the details of being a lab mus at the University of SaBel had been lost, almost as if the particulars of her ordeal existed as shadows in her mind that she could never bring to light.

“Come sit down, Aya,” Mother Nikole said, her soft voice doing more to calm Aya’s nerves than the large dose of opiates Nurse Kittle had administered before telling her to remove her clothes and then shoving the nearly-transparent patient gown into her arms.

Aya wrapped the sheer-blue gown tighter around her trembling body as she obediently sat beside Mother Nikole on the bench next to the cold plasma shielded door leading to the lab. Cold plasma shields – or co-plas shields as the scientists liked to call them – were new technology that the University of SaBel had introduced to the public less than an orbit ago. The technology housed in Aya’s body was even newer than co-plas and yet to be released to the galaxy.

“I don’t want to go in there, Mother,” Aya said, her voice wobbling.

She squeezed her eyes closed in an attempt to shut out the fear that made her into this pathetic fool and rubbed at her green serpentes tattoo that wound its way up her right arm and onto her shoulder. The wretched thing itched; she needed to drink some water.

Mother Nikole’s warm, weathered hand enfolded her small, trembling one.

“What they did to you, they should not have done,” she said, squeezing Aya’s hand. “If the procedure was safe, well-tested, I would insist they remove your implants, but to do so would endanger your health. You are young and still haven’t reached optimal wellbeing. All we can do now is allow them to run tests to make sure your implants have not and will not do you harm.”

Aya’s muscles shook with the need to bolt. Run, they said, run away. But she did not want to go back to her life on the putrid streets of SaBel. She had spent too many moon cycles in the loving arms of Ove Orphanage to return to starvation and imminent danger. No, she would stay. She’d do what Mother Nikole asked of her. Refusing to do so would mean failing the one person in all of The Greater Galaxy who gave a particle about her young, waste-filled life.

“We’re ready for you now,” Nurse Kittle said in a bored voice. Her over-rejuvenated skin stretched tight over her enhanced cheekbones as she stepped through the now open doorway.

Mother Nikole patted Aya’s shaking leg. “Go, child. I will pray for you until you return.”

Aya stood, hating that she had to do this, hating that she would be at the mercy of Dr. Othan again. Sucking in a breath of the hygienic air the university circulated throughout their buildings, Aya lifted her head and followed Kittle into the lab.

Feces! Aya’s stomach rolled as she walked toward the man who had lured her from the streets with promises of food and a warm bed. He hadn’t lied. He had just failed to mention that the “food” would be administered through nannite injections and that she would be pinned to the bed with co-plas restraints while he implanted tech in her right arm and sensor controls in her brain all without any kind of pain-softener so that he could study her while the tech took root.

“Subject 8-B,” Kittle said, navigating a handheld chart, her long, frosted-peach fingernails clicking against the keys. “Fifteen orbits, four moon cycles of age. Five fot five. One hundred eight pounens. Acceptable health. Though her tattoo looks a little dim, signaling that she is not fully hydrated.”

Aya ground her teeth. That’s all she was, all she’d ever be to these asswipes. Nothing more, nothing less than disposable property. And she hated them for it. Her mother had seen her that way too – at least she did before being ordered into a rehabilitation facility. In the last couple of moon cycles, though, Aya had received four messages from her mother talking about the wonderful life they would live together once she had “recovered” from her propensity for crime. All of the messages were signed “Love, Mom” and included little kissing sounds.

Muck.

“8-B,” Dr. Othan greeted, “how wonderful to see you again. I’d feared the worst when we were unable to recover you.”

Aya stiffened her back and gave the flat-nosed doctor an exaggerated eye roll. She would not let him see her fear. “You mean you were scared you lost your tech for good. Don’t pretend you give a particle about me.”

Dr. Othan lifted his square chin and sniffed. “I see you haven’t lost your caustic attitude. I’d hoped that the time you spent with the Sisters of Ove would have gentled your manners.”

Aya’s eyes burned from his words. He was wrong. Her manners had improved. The Sisters were proud of the progress she had made. Mother Nikole said just lastsun that she was becoming a bright light of Ove.

“Come sit in the examination chair so that I may begin my examination.” Dr. Othan motioned to the long-legged chair beside him.

Aya hesitated before putting one foot in front of the other. She felt like she was walking to her execution. They could kill her. Easily. Mother Nikole was outside. All they had to do was tell her something went wrong while testing the implants. A terrible tragedy. And there’d be nothing Mother Nikole could do about it. Nothing to do but shoot her ashes into space.

Aya sat in the chair, placing her hands in her lap instead of on the armrests. She knew from experience that as soon as she placed her arms on the rests, co-plas restraints would automatically activate and there would be no escape. The doctor could do his examination without taking any possibility of escape from her.

Kittle sashayed over to her and wrapped her clammy fingers around Aya’s wrists. “Place your arms on the armrests, 8-B,” she ground out while attempting to lift Aya’s arms.

“No.” Aya kicked Kittle’s thin shins until the nurse released her arms with a squeal of pain.

“8-B,” Dr. Othan said, looming over her, “if you fail to cooperate, I will be forced to put you under heavy sedation.”

Aya leaned away from him, crinkling her nose. Muck. His breath stank like old swimmers, a stench she remembered well from her time in the lab. Was he addicted to rotten food or did he have some sort of medical condition?

You’d think if he had some sort of medical problem, he’d fix it already. He is a scientist after all.

“Nurse Kittle, please prepare a dose of sedatives,” he said over his thin shoulder.

Kittle snickered as she limped over to a freestanding med unit. Adie wanted to smile about the limp she had inflicted on Kittle but couldn’t. She was too scared of being dosed with sedatives.

Feces.

Relenting, Aya placed her arms on the armrests. She held her breath as the co-plas restraints activated, chilling her to her bones. Dr. Othan leaned over and removed the patient gown, exposing her to his med-tech enhanced eyes.

It’s not personal or sexual, she reminded herself. He sees you as nothing more than experiment 8-B.

That Dr. Othan saw her as less than a sentient being did not help to slow Aya’s breathing or allow her to unclench her fists. His roaming eyes and hands demoralized her like nothing else could.

I hope Ove eats your soul and leaves you in the dark forever, she thought, glaring at Dr. Othan. In fact, Aya decided, she would pray for just that every night for the next decade or so, and Ove would listen to her too because she was becoming His light.

Dr. Othan ran his fingers over her serpentes tattoo. “It is imperative that you remember to stay hydrated, 8-B,” he admonished. “The green pigment used in your tattoo is synthetic chlorophyll. It mimics the photosynthesis process in plants, converting light energy into the chemical energy needed to power your implants. Fully charged, your tattoo will be bright green; low charge and it looks dim, darker, like it does now.”

Aya didn’t respond. She knew how the feckle thing worked. Did he really think she was that stupid? Dumb enough to forget why her tattoo dimmed and her mouth turned desert dry whenever she failed to drink 60 casks of water a sun cycle? Please.

When Kittle limped over with a bio-scan in her bony hand, Aya was able to produce the smile she had wished for earlier. Resting her head against the back of the chair, she said, “You should get that limp checked out. I bet your legs are going to bruise.”

Kittle thinned her fat-plumped lips, making her look like a long-mouthed swimmer. Aya struggled not to laugh. If she had too much fun at Kittle’s expense, the asswipe would retaliate; this Aya knew from painful experience.

When he had finished his external examination, Dr. Othan took the bio-scan and activated the small, white device. Knowing that the, often painful, tests would come next, Aya closed her eyes and activated the virtual space her implants provided her. Dr. Othan would know she was using the device, but he would not be able to see the world she had created for herself.

The setting that came into view was the same as always. She stood at the helm of a great spaceship, the four gold stripes at the cuffs of her sleeves marking her as captain of the vessel. A red dwarf star shone brightly in the main viewscreen, producing a large flare.

“We’re too close,” an unnamed officer said.

“Captain!” another officer shouted when Aya failed to respond. “We must draw back.”

Aya smiled as the star reached for her, its red light filling her eyes to overflowing, its warmth browning her skin.

Here. I’m here, she thought. Come take me.

The star reached into the great spaceship and wrapped its flare around her, embracing her. She floated in a cocoon of red starlight, soared over the heads of her crew who called out to her. She didn’t listen. She couldn’t hear them over the sound of the star song.

“All finished now,” Dr. Othan said, deactivating the arm restraints.

Aya blinked back into reality and pulled on the gown as soon as Dr. Othan took a step back from her. Giving herself a few sequnds to reset her mind to the real world, she counted her breaths.

“Preliminary results look good,” Dr. Othan said to Kittle who gave him a ridiculous grin.

Aya’s arm throbbed where the hub of her implants were seated in her muscle. Her fingers ached, telling her that they had run a myriad of tests on each device. Clasping her arm to her chest, she jumped down from the examination chair and headed for the door. They could talk as if she wasn’t there after she left the room.

Kittle must have deactivated the co-plas shield because the door swished open as soon as Aya stepped up to it. She left, mumbling, “Later, asswipes,” under her breath.

Mother Nikole rose from the bench, her eyes crinkling, her mouth smiling. “You are well?” she asked, pulling Aya into a strong hug. For an eight-four orbit old woman, Mother Nikole could really hold you tight.

Aya nodded against Mother Nikole’s shoulder. “I’m okay.”

“Good girl,” she said, releasing her. “Now, go get dressed and we will return home.”

Home, Aya thought, savoring the word. Ove Orphanage was the only home she’d ever known. Because she certainly didn’t consider the mus infested holes she lived in with her mother as homes, and the vacant buildings she had slept in while living on the streets were little more than places to hide from pimps, drug dealers, and bullies. No, Ove Orphanage was the only place she had ever felt protected and loved, and that was where she was returning. She had earned her keep for the sun cycle. Mother Nikole was happy with her. All was right with the galaxy. All was right in Aya’s world.