The Nightingale Circus Read online

  “Cursed,” the woman said.

  Yes, cursed, if he didn’t develop a personality strong enough to carry the physical signs of the disease with dignity. Had Big Dino also been a toddler with green skin and the look of a toad? Cielo couldn’t help but wonder.

  “Please…” As limited as her vocabulary was, the woman made herself clearly understood.

  Cielo shook her head. They hadn’t removed the gag so she couldn’t speak, though she didn’t know what she could have said.

  The man standing near the woman gave the signal with a brisk wave of hand, and Cielo stared at the four gun barrels aimed at her. Her eyes opened a little wider. Did they think she could perform miracles only with the power of her mind? Apparently they didn’t. The man who seemed to be the leader leaned forward and pulled down the gag.

  “Sing.” The woman offered her a hopeful smile.

  Cielo licked her lips. “I can’t … I can’t heal him…”

  But they didn’t understand. Or they didn’t want to. One of the hardest things was to give up hope because then you had nothing left. Cielo perfectly understood that. She also knew how this unfortunate meeting was going to end. Better finish it sooner, before Rake and Spinner found her. Her punishment was kinder than their knives and hammer-like fists.

  When the woman repeated her plea in a whisper, Cielo nodded.

  She opened her mouth and sang. The rifles trembled in the men’s hands. They didn’t notice. All their eyes were on her. They also didn’t notice when the barrels rose, aiming at each other. The singing went higher up a note.

  They fired.

  Left alone standing, the woman screamed, cried, and cursed her, all this time cradling the baby against her chest. Since she wasn’t armed, Cielo had planned on letting her go, but things rarely worked as planned.

  The woman bent to pick up a rifle lying by her foot.

  Later Cielo would tell herself she’d had no choice. Of course, there was always a choice. She could die or … She altered her tune.

  Before she could reach for the rifle, the woman stumbled backward. Her arms waved, nearly dropping the baby, horror painted on her face.

  She could have made the woman run for the still-open door, but there was a chance she would alert someone. Cielo didn’t want to be found there when the massacre was discovered. It wouldn’t end well. She made the woman slam against a distant wall, hidden in the darkness. A blow to the head would keep her unconscious long enough for her to escape.

  The woman sagged against the wall, still holding onto the baby who, woken up by the commotion, began to cry.

  Cielo jumped to her feet in an instant. With her hands and ankles still bound, she stumbled towards the harvester, her eyes repeatedly darting towards the door. The machine’s blades were hard to reach, but at the expense of several shallow cuts, she managed to free herself.

  It was time to run. Being in the middle of the night and away from the town, she had a long walk ahead of her.

  On her way to the door, she stopped to check on the woman. She hadn’t seen the tools that hung on the wall. Some of them were sharp and twisted, a real hazard for those who didn’t know they were there. Maybe the woman had known, but what good had it done for her anyway? The metal had still pierced her back in at least two places, and blood stained the front of her shirt. She wasn’t breathing.

  Cielo picked up the baby from her arms and laid him down on a bale of hay. She considered taking him with her, rescuing him from the mad family, but only briefly. While he would have found a good place at the circus, Cielo’s experience was anything but good when it came to taking children away from their home. Without glancing back at the bloodied bodies, she walked out into the night.

  By the time Rake and Spinner found her, striding along the side of the road and guided only by the distant city lights, she’d long wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  * * *

  The pain stirred in her thigh when she woke up. It wasn’t too bad, certainly not worth screaming or even whining about, less than a bump on the head, and at least it didn’t make her mind hazy. All in all, she assumed the procedure had gone well since she woke up alone in the back compartment of the car. Only clients who required complicated procedures and privacy were received here. There were no clients around because they were already moving, heading east for their summer tour.

  The sound of the wheels rolling on the old railway tracks and the faint huff of the engine gave her comfort. They had probably started it the moment the metal plates had been put in place, before even closing her up. They couldn’t stay in that town any longer, not after what she had done. Hopefully, it would all turn into a rumor by the time they came back. It didn’t have to be sooner than a couple of years. There were lots of ways to cross Europe. They didn’t have to stop in the same towns each time.

  Sighing, Cielo leaned her head back and stared at the empty ceiling, expecting to be trapped in that chair for a few more days until the incision healed. Big Dino had insisted they do it the old way—no speedy recovery treatments. If she were ever tempted to reveal her identity in the future, he wanted her to remember what she had been willing to give up and what it had cost her. He wanted her to remember the pain, hence the hammer. Of course, Rake and Spinner cheated and gave her drugs to keep her numb as long as possible. As technicians, inventors, and sometimes healers, they didn’t care for torturing a child. Cielo was quite happy with their services.

  It was Rake’s turn to check on her that morning, so she made sure to compose a serene face when he came in. The floor screeched under his weight. With all that metal inside, the knife throwers must have weighed a ton each.

  “Slept well?” he asked, going straight to the monitors.

  “Not bad,” Cielo said.

  “Bad dreams, huh?” He threw her a glance over the shoulder, eyes returning quickly to the readings.

  Cielo shrugged, not surprised that he knew. They had walked back with her to the barn that night and taken care of the bodies. The cleaning up part was just as bad as the killing, only that it was … well, cleaner. The knife throwers didn’t seem to mind, but then again, they had more experience with dead bodies than she did.

  “They won’t stop,” Rake said, and Cielo struggled to focus on his words. “But you’ll get used to them. It will get easier.”

  Cielo doubted it despite being used to the dreams already. It didn’t look like the adults knew any better, more insurance that she’d done the right thing.

  Unlike Spinner, Rake didn’t fuss around the monitors. He brought over the scanner and positioned it near her leg. “Let’s see how it looks. Try not to move.”

  He pressed a switch and the contraption that kept her leg in place opened, revealing pink skin and a scar so thin, it was barely visible.

  “It will look even better in a few more days,” Rake said.

  It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like she was going to show off her legs, not after this.

  Rake moved the scanner right on top of her thigh. He turned it on and nodded at the largest monitor for her to watch. The screen blinked, replacing the command system with the X-ray image of her thigh. No, that wasn’t right.

  Cielo tilted her head. There should have been a human femur with a clean cut where the two centimeters of bone had been removed and metal plates were holding the two pieces together. Instead, the image showed a long metal piece shaped like a femur. She’d seen similar images before when Rake and Spinner were fixing their arms after the tent had collapsed. Their prosthetics were more complex, with tons of add-ons, but followed the same basic principles.

  “We came up with another solution,” Rake said in answer to her silent question. “We replaced the femur with a metallic, shorter one… so, one day, if the need arises, you can have it grow to the right size without another surgery.” He pointed at a fine line that crossed one of the extremities. “Here. With the proper code and charge, it will elongate … like the stilt men?” He made eye contact for a brief moment. “There will
be pain when the flesh and muscles extend so you mustn’t do it unless you’re decided to keep it that way for a long time. Do you understand?”

  Cielo gave a slow nod. She couldn’t imagine why she’d want to do that.

  Since Rake refused to continue without a proper acknowledgement, she nodded again. “Okay.”

  A cheerful whistle interrupted the staring contest, and Spinner entered the room, holding something behind his back. “Aww, you started already? But I wanted to be here when you explained—never mind … I’ve got something better!” He produced an adjustable crutch and showed it to her. “Isn’t it pretty? You’ll be up on your feet in no time.” A big smile split Spinner’s face in half, and he waved his free hand. “Come on, up, up! Let’s try it!”

  Showing no sign of excitement, Rake methodically detached the sensors and straps that kept her connected to the chair. Once she was free, he removed all the objects that could get in her way and signaled for Cielo to lower her feet on the floor.

  The limb was stiff and unresponsive at first. Cielo had a fit of panic at the thought that they had screwed up somehow, but despite the sluggishness, the leg smoothly executed the command. She felt the hard floor under her feet, both of them, though the right thigh remained numb and distant.

  “Lean on this.” Spinner handed her the crutch. “Careful, the leg is heavier than what you’re used to. You need to find a new balance and get used to it before doing any sudden moves.”

  “You need to strengthen your muscles,” Rake said. “Walk along the corridor from one end of the car to the other several times a day. You don’t have anything better to do until we set up shop again in another town anyway.”

  The words might have sounded harsh, but they were true. She had no particular occupation in between shows.

  Cielo first leaned her weight on the good leg then tentatively tried to balance it with the use of the other one and the crutch. The injured leg was indeed heavier and felt partially asleep, but the pain didn’t increase when she moved it or leaned on it. She let out a small sigh. She could do this. The worst part was over, and the first step was a small victory by itself.

  “Wonderful!” Spinner clasped his hands. “Come to the factory. We want to show you something.”

  One step after another, Cielo crossed the room. Spinner led the way while Rake walked next to her, ready to catch her. She was out of breath long before making it to the adjacent room but kept on walking out of sheer stubbornness.

  Cielo’s hand was shaking on the crutch when she stopped in front of the large workbench. An unfinished cage made of golden wires lay on it, and inside, the silhouette of a bird swung on a delicate chain.

  “Meet … the Nightingale,” Spinner said.

  * * *

  Two days later, the train stopped in a station outside another town. The crew marked the perimeter of the fair with yellow tape on the other side of the tracks and erected the massive blue and yellow striped tent right in the middle.

  As usual, the news spread quickly, and before nightfall, the fair was bustling with lights and life. They would make a lot of money from the sales of food, trinkets, and games, and even more money from the tickets after the first show.

  Cielo cast a glance towards the big, flashy sign near the entrance that announced The Nightingale Circus was in town. Not one of the visitors from the constant stream passing by bothered to give her a second look. She smoothed her simple, sequined dress that flowed around her legs, making the limping stand out even more, and with the help of the crutch, she entered the tent. From there, smiling secretively to herself, she found her way to the sound booth backstage.

  After she locked the door behind her, she turned on the monitors. Various shots from the inside of the arena filled the wall, including one of the golden cage hung close to the top of the conical roof. In the packed seats, the audience was getting restless. It was time for the show to start. Cielo drank a sip of water and cleared her throat.

  The lights went low, pulsing in soft, warm colors. The orchestra attacked the first note. Cielo’s voice filled the arena in a gentle caress. Tonight she would sing about perfection. She’d make everyone believe the Nightingale could only be someone as perfect as her singing and not a crippled girl with a badly mended leg. Her heart soared. The broken leg had saved her life. She was free.

  The Blade Masters

  The pain hit Spinner everywhere at once when he came back online. He ran a quick diagnosis on what still worked in his system and winced. Or tried to. He was still losing blood through two major wounds in his thigh and upper torso, though it had been a while since the injuries had occurred. He couldn’t tell exactly how long because his internal clock had stopped working along with most of his enhancements. The newest implant was a bust. The last blast had fried it, paralyzing him. He couldn’t move from the neck down. He couldn’t connect to the command center either. That explained why he was still trapped underneath a pile of metal and mangled corpses instead of lying on a hospital bed. They probably thought he was dead.

  He should have been. During today’s exercise, a platoon led by a telecharger had fought the new bot, a prototype that the army was proud of. This one was already considered a success, ready to stand up to the enemy’s army. Only the bots weren’t supposed to blow up that easily, not on the training field. It had taken away with it sixty men, plus one telecharger whose worth surpassed his weight in gold. Not good at all.

  Despite his hazy brain, Spinner tried to remember everyone’s location just before the blast. Maybe he wasn’t the only one lucky enough to survive. Hard to tell since his visual sensors didn’t work properly.

  “Rake … are you there?” His voice came out hoarse, but his jaw worked enough to produce the words.

  A groan came from his left. “I wish I was dead.”

  A relieved sigh escaped Spinner’s lips. Life wasn’t so bad if his best friend had survived.

  “Any idea what happened?” he asked.

  “Another screw up of our wonderful scientists.” Rake’s gruff voice was strained.

  “What’s the status?”

  “I think I broke my back. I can’t move,” Rake said.

  Tough luck, but not unfixable. A month of rehabilitation would do. It meant they weren’t going to be shipped to the battlefield together this time around. Bummer.

  “Any tingling?” Spinner asked.

  “Yes…” Rake said.

  “Me too. It’s not the back, it’s the implant.”

  “Right … I can’t think straight. It keeps firing inside my brain.” Rake groaned again, possibly another failed attempt to extract himself from the pile of mangled bodies. “Can you move at all?”

  “No.”

  “Then we’re stuck until the cleaning team gets here,” Rake said in an unhappy voice.

  He hated not being in control of his body more than anything else. Spinner shared his feelings, but with a more moderate disgust. That was what all of the enhancements were for, to ensure their survival. And they had gotten them through several campaigns, more than most people still alive had ever survived. This was a disgrace.

  “Twenty years in the service and this is what we get,” Rake said, “rotting under a pile of corpses. Do you know I’m turning forty this year? I think I’m ready for retirement.”

  Spinner frowned, taken aback by the avalanche of words. Rake spoke little, and he never complained. That was Spinner’s department.

  “We could apply for early retirement when we return to the base,” Spinner said. “I doubt it will get approved but…” He hesitated. This was going to sound like treason, but if anyone was still alive around them, they would have spoken by now. Truth be told, Spinner was fed up with fighting in this endless war, too. “If we survive the next charge, we can not report back and disappear from the field. If we leave our ID implants behind, they’ll write us off as died in action, and we’ll be free.”

  Rake groaned.

  Easier said than done. Surviving another charge c
ouldn’t be taken for granted just because they had been lucky so far. Chances were at least one of them would die in the next fight. Well, there was nothing they could do at this point other than to wait.

  “I’m going to reboot,” Rake said. “This noise inside my head is driving me nuts.”

  Spinner sighed. He’d thought about doing it too, but the total lack of stimulus, even if only for a few seconds, was disorienting.

  “Did you hear that?” Rake whispered.

  “What?” Spinner instinctively lowered his voice.

  “Someone’s … whistling.” Pause. “We’re not alone.”

  Grimacing, Spinner did his own rebooting. All sensory input disappeared for an instant, leaving him hanging in a void, and when the system came back online, he heard the whistling and more. Someone moved across the training field, someone big.

  He turned his head with great difficulty, and the intruder entered his vision field. Spinner’s enhanced retinas zoomed in on a big man, massive rather than fat, with a round, bald head, a skin disease, and an unusual complexion, but the light was too dim to figure out all of the details and what they meant.

  The stranger advanced in no hurry between the fallen bodies and debris, stopping here and there to inspect things. Twice he kneeled and dug something out that he put in the bag hanging on his shoulder. Spinner’s insides twisted. Was he harvesting prosthetics? But how had he gotten into the training grounds? The security was tight. The world’s future depended on what they did in here.