It was the middle of the night. The eight year old was cold and tired, but he still wanted to know about the whereabouts of his parents. He had a nightmare, but he wasn't going to admit that was the reason he was awake. He was too old for that.
He certainly didn't want to be alone so he toddled the rest of the way down the stairs into the small living room. A single lamp was illuminating the room and the other two figures occupying it. They were older than the boy, easily teenagers. Both had rust-red eyes, the same indigo skin as the other male, and long wavy hair. In fact, the two were twins. The only physical difference between them was gender.
She was sitting on the rug under the lamp with a book in her lap. Her twin brother was laying on his stomach beside her, drawing on a grey digital pad. 1
"Shouldn't they.. be back by now...Jay?" Eyre asked his elder siblings, figuring they hadn't heard him the first time.
Jadyn glanced up from her book and frowned slightly.
"You know they're usually out all night when they're working," she told him before going back to her book. 2
"Go back to sleep. They'll be in by morning," Jordyn assured his little brother, eyes never leaving the art tablet he was working on.
Eyre sighed and nodded. He turned to head back to their bedroom. He glanced over his shoulder at this older siblings with a little hesitance before he slowly made his way back up the steps.3
A few hours later and Eyre was wakened again. This time, from a knock on the door. When he got downstairs, there was two figures standing in the doorway- and they were not his parents. They were tall, dark-skinned, and dressed in uniform. The twins were standing next to them crying quietly, embracing one another tightly. One of the uniformed people caught sight of the little boy in the oversized T-shirt and slowly approached. 4
"You and your brother and sister are going to come with us, okay?" the uniformed stranger said, holding out his hand. Eyre took a step back and shook his head.
"My parents...they'll be wondering where we went," he explained as he looked up at Jordyn and Jadyn. But they just looked at him and nodded, a quiet sign that it was okay.
Eyre hesitantly took the stranger's hand.5
They were killed.
He found that out the next day, but he didn't understand it until years later. His parents didn't 'work' at night. They were protesters.
His parents were part of the last generation born on their native planet before it was destroyed.
Their home wasn't ravaged by famine, drought, or war. They hadn't been careless and squandered their resources like so many others. The planet was just old. The stars were just dying.
There was plenty of time to evacuate the people from the planet, but that had never been the real problem. It wasn't racism. Most of that had been long forgotten, since many people commuted across star systems, or lived on space stations with many different species.
It wasn't racism.It was the depression. People were feeling it all over, and no one seemed to take to kindly to ten billion refugees fleeing a planet and trying to make out a new niche in an already crowded universe.
The refugees were put in camps or small houses- they had to work twice as hard to get what everyone else was getting, societies vain attempt to keep the majority happy and upset the economic balance as a little as possible.6
Eyre's parents didn't agree with that. And perhaps they got over zealous in their disagreements, and that night them and two dozen others were killed at the hands of the authorities for rioting.
Still, three underage children wouldn't be turned out just for their parents transgressions. The trio was taken into a care system and soon split up into different foster houses.
It didn't bother Eyre too much, but his brother and sister were very close. They were twins, after all, and even though they were older he knew that it would kill them to be separated like that.
In four short years, Eyre was shipped around to nine different families. He didn't do well with any of them.
The one benefit was that when he wasn't in a group home waiting to be pushed off on a different person, he got to travel. There was worlds to see out there and that seemed much more appealing to the teenager than being stuck in a little metal box bedroom on a space station, with nothing but a small cargo window to glimpse at the rest of the universe. It didn't help that he didn't really get a long with any of the families he was given to. He was smart and did well in his lessons, but he also caused a lot of trouble. He convinced other children to misbehave. 7
That is what got him kicked out of his most recent family home. His foster sister almost drowned when he convinced her to swim without any supervision. It isn't like he wanted to hurt her. He was just bored and thought she'd be a stronger swimmer. It seemed like the last straw for her high-strung mother though, and she called to have him picked up and placed in a different home.
So he ran away. Lots of children run away. They put some clothes into a backpack and head off down the street, eventually coming home or being picked up by worried family members. Not Eyre. He ran away, stowed himself in a cargo ship, and left the planet. 8
9
His stomach was clenching, trying to keep warm and digest food that wasn't there.
He lonely, starving, wet and miserable. But he was also stubborn. He'd lived on the streets alone like this for six months and he was still alive. He stood up, readjusting the wet jacket, and walked down the streets.
It was almost time for the restaurants to be closing and he wanted to make it to the leftovers before they got rained on.10
Eyre looked in the mirror of the gas-station bathroom, running his fingers through his long blue hair.
"Damn it," he grumbled. It was a complete mess. No one would want him like this, that was fairly obvious. He cleaned up the best he could, straightening his wrinkled clothes and washing the dirt from under his nails. He didn't look bad, that was for sure. 11
Now he just had to fight with the rat's nest on his head for a bit longer. He finally got it untangled and let it hang loose over his shoulders.
His lips pulled in a slight grin. He looked good. Well, at least for someone who had been living in subways and on benches for the better part of two years. Narrow shoulders, bony hips, a flat stomach. He still had a very boyish look about him. That would certainly help him get the job. He walked across the street and looked up at the neon lights in the tinted windows. The sign had five bright yellow circles in a half-moon shape wrapping around the club name: The Five Suns.
12
"You need this, Eyre..." he mumbled to himself, chewing at his lip before he stepped inside.
It was a high-end joint, mostly for wealthy business people. Blue and pink lights swirled around the stage, illuminating the twisting dancers as the crowd watched. Eyre glanced over at them as he walked to a waitress and stopped her.
13
"Excuse me," He stuffed his hand into his pants pocket and drew out a folded business card. "A man gave me this and said I could speak to someone about getting a position here," he said, showing her the paper stamped with a seal.
She smiled, showing him two rows of sharp teeth.
14
"Sure, kid. Just show Lady M in the back." She pointed to a hallway beside the stage and went back to her own duties.
Eyre nodded and headed off in that direction. It wasn't hard to find this 'Lady M'. The woman he ran into obviously exuded importance. She had gold thread weaved into short silver hair and her eyelids were painted teal. She wore a tightly laced low-cut bodice, embroidered with dusky pink and aqua colored gems.
He presented the card to her and she cracked a smile at him.
"How old are you, boy?" she asked, crossing one leg over the other as she sat.
"Seventeen, ma'am," he lied. His voice was convincing; his body just wasn't cooperating. He still looked like a malnourished fourteen year old. Her laugh told him that she wasn't buying it, either.
"Lucky for you I'm just high class enough that no one is going to ask me about the age of my workers," she said, standing up. She reached over and grabbed him by the chin.
"..Hmm...High cheekbones, full lips..." She was appraising him. "...Exotic eyes and very nice skin," she said, finally letting him go. "Any scars?"
Eyre shook his head.
"No..."
"Good. What can you do?" she asked.
"I can sing," Eyre said. "And I'm... flexible. I can do anything though," he was quick to add.
She looked at him for a long moment.
"I tell you what, kid. I will give you room, board, and training. But you will be a serf here," she said.
"Until you turn twenty one. Which...I'm going to say is in about seven years," she said.
Eyre winced slightly. He was just looking for a job.
"Just... I mean, if I could just work for a little money-"
"I could get in some big trouble housing a little runaway like you. You're pretty, but you're not worth that much trouble. Take it or leave it," she said.
Seven years wasn't so bad. It was a warm house and plenty of food, and even the 'work' didn't seem all that difficult.
"Yeah... Okay," he agreed with a nod.
"Alright... what's your name?" She asked, shaking his hand to seal the deal.
"Eyre..." he answered. He hadn't given his last name for years. He'd long loathed his parents for what they had done. It was selfish of them, doing what they did. Leaving three children at home just to protest. He wouldn't forgive them for that.
"Well Eyre," she answered, hands going to her hips. "Head to wardrobe and change into some nice clothes. Then go onto the stage and take them off," she said bluntly. "And find something to sing while you do, our guests take more than a little skin to be entertained."
He was confident enough in his ability. He had learned that you had to do more than hold out your hand for change if you wanted to eat on the streets. Still, he had some limits that he just wouldn't cross. Unfortunetaly, as he got older, it seemed that people were only interested in the things that crossed those boundaries. Recently a rather insistent man had given him some trouble that Eyre barely managed to get out of. He'd had enough of the streets after that.
The dressing room had several costumes, but the clothing that grabbed his attention was a simple navy colored suit. He threw it on, ran a proper brush through his hair, and joined the other dancers on the stage.
His first night on the job, he sung only one song. A classic called 'You're the Top', that fit his suit and hat quite nicely. He had heard the old music from his foster dad's basement years ago, but he had liked the old blues music so much it stuck with him through the years.
By the end of the track he was wearing nothing but the hat and a tight pair of briefs, and audience seemed to enjoy the view, judging by the cat calls. Eyre was thankful for his dark skin, lest he would have been flushed with shame. But he knew it was what he had to do. With that, he headed backstage for another costume change.
The owner was there, smiling at him.15
"Not bad for a beginner, kid," she said. She held a piece of paper out to him. "Now that I'm sure you're not going to cost me money, go ahead and sign. Thumb print on your right hand," she instructed. A contract, legally binding them both to the deal.
Eyre nodded and pressed his thumb to the surface. The paper was fairly common for legal work, built in instant-ink. 16
"Alright then. Just one last thing." She walked over to a drawer and pulled out a metal device that looked somewhat like a gun. She motioned for Eyre to follow her, and he did as his boss bade him.
"Hold still," she said, holding the device by his face. Eyre thought it was simply a retinal scan, but as soon as she fired the thing, he knew he was wrong.
Pain shot up the entire right side of his face, so intensely hot that he cried out and stumbled back. He breathed in and his stomach turned at the smell of burning flesh.
17
"Just in case you ever get the mind to run away," she said, unflinching at his discomfort. "Standard procedure for all servants. Your bunk in room five," she said, turning and walking out without another word.
Eyre stood in shock for several moments until the pain finally subsided. He slowly made his way to a mirror, afraid of what would be looking back.
He winced at his reflection. Five yellow circles lazer burned into his skin, dotting from his right cheek up to his forehead. 18
Five suns.19
20
21
Adding your comment:
