SL Huang - Up and Coming - Stories by the 2016 Campbell-Eligible Authors

Someone tugged at my shoulder and spun me around. I was in the middle of a tight circle of very angry people.

"Ass-hole Earthens! Go home," a tall—to my collarbone—P’twuan shouted in excellent English. He reared his fist back and flashed it forward, hitting me in the jaw. Pain sliced through my skull and I staggered. A follow-up punch to the chest thrust me backward onto the reed-covered floor. Three sharp kicks landed against my rib cage as well as grinding pressure on my right knee, as if someone were standing on it.

Flashes of yellowwhite-hot alternated with red-streaked black.

"Ffffuck!" I shouted, once I’d caught my breath. I bucked and flailed. I was bigger than these people and, more importantly, I hadn’t done anything wrong. "Back off!"

There was no more music, just crazed commotion.

An open hand reached down. I grabbed it and was pulled up, only then seeing that it was Ruk. He spoke in a firm voice to the people around me, but my brain was in no shape to interpret a language I’d only begun to learn.

A bubbling froth of grey-dirty: disordered, disgruntled confusion had replaced the fuchsia and sickening green.

Sonjec stood at the back corner behind the stage holding her instrument against her chest. She motioned for me to come. I touched Ruk. He glanced up for the briefest of moments and nodded. I left his calming presence and ran out with my sister.

"I didn’t even know you had come," Sonjec said, mashing a cold pack on my swollen knee.

We’d escaped to Mother’s swanky apartment deep in the diplomatic section of downtown O*p’toc where she served as Earth Colonies Ambassador.

"It’s been a while since I’ve heard you play."

"It went well," she said, reclining on the plush couch perpendicular to the one I was on.

I barked a harsh laugh, but she didn’t join in. I looked at her. "You were kidding, right?"

"The music, I mean. The music was going great. I loved what their language was adding. I’ll have to work on the recording tomorrow." She reached over to the table, picked up her bottle of brew and took a long drag.

"Shit." I shook my head, feeling pain in my ribs, knee, chest. Once again, Sonjec gets off free and clear . "You’re missing the tiny little fact that you caused a riot."

She choked, sat up and coughed. When she recovered, she shot me a withering look. "Right, Carinth. I caused that mess."

"Are you completely unaware? Something in that room changed when you started playing. Well…not at first. It built…It—"

"It had nothing to do with the music. They were drinking. It was a bar fight. Like that never happens."

She was definitely the most clueless person in the world.

"Ask Ruk," I said.

"Yeah. Ruk."

"Where’d you pick him up?"

She shrugged. "He’s the reason I came."

"Huh. I thought you came because your family’s here."

Sitting forward on the couch her elbows resting on splayed knees, hands holding the ale, she looked at me for a long moment. "Yeah, well, things come together that way, don’t they? He wrote me. Fan mail. Asked me to come. Talked the place up. Lots of water, beaches, beautiful scenery, and he said they were a peaceful race who love music. Hah!"

"They are peaceful. They keep to their own, but I’ve experienced no hostility. Not till tonight."

"Humanoids will be humanoids."

"This is serious. It could cause trouble for Mom."

"Isn’t that my role in the family? Some things never change. Need something for the pain?"

Sonjec disappeared.

I didn’t know until the next evening. I slept off the drugs she gave me, felt lousy and stayed in bed.

Mother came in around supper time.

It was hard to believe that Sonjec and I were her offspring. She exuded professionalism, elegance, competence, intelligence and attractiveness—all composed into a complete package that most people found reassuring. The contrast between all that and my gawky, scattered, unfocused self was simply undermining. I had nothing of her in me.

"What do you know about last night?" she asked.

I sat up, alert for the first time all day. "I was there."

She arched a perfectly defined eyebrow from her perfectly matched set. "That was nice of you to support your sister. Tell me what happened."

I did. Honestly. I left out my sensory data, knowing it wouldn’t help, but conveyed my opinion that Sonjec’s music had somehow, for some reason, riled up the locals.

"You’re injured?"

"Sore. Nothing’s broken."

"Unfortunatley, this incident—bar fight or whatever it was—hasn’t gone away. I may have a crisis on my hands. Where’s Sonjec?"

"Haven’t seen or heard from her since last night."

Mother sighed. "She isn’t here. I’ve messaged her multiple times with no answer."

"She’ll show up. Why would she hide if she didn’t think the uproar at the bar had anything to do with her?"

But I was wrong. Another day passed with no word.

The brawl boiled over, giving rise to protests in the courtyard by Embassy Row. On the feeds there were calls for Mother’s expulsion and a growing ugliness toward off-worlders. So far, because of the respect with which she was held, her diplomatic counterparts were being patient and calling for calm.

"What are they saying Sonjec did?"

Mother shook her head. "It’s something she communicated through the frequlet , but I don’t understand the nuances. She deeply offended the P’twuas by breaking some subtle cultural taboo. That it was inadvertent hardly matters at the moment."

Mother feared she’d been kidnapped.

Later that day, I sat in the apartment in front of the VID and watched my mother the Ambassador, in formal ceremonial uniform, as she held a press conference and apologized as thoroughly as any person could.

Afterward, I went to find Ruk.

Mother had instructed me to stay in the apartment, but I wasn’t too worried about my safety. I didn’t really believe Sonjec had been kidnapped.

Still, when I walked into the empty bar—the scene of the crime—I felt grateful for the first time in my life that I looked nothing like my mother or my half-sister. It was unlikely that anyone would associate me with them.

I spoke to the tender. He knew Ruk and messaged him for me. I waited out back on the lanai. The bar was on the outskirts of the city proper, near a broad ocean inlet. The stiff breeze off the briney, lavender and white water had something in it that made my skin tingle.

Why do I think I can trust Ruk? I thought, rubbing my cheeks to get rid of the itch. Maybe he lured Sonjec to Pas for political reasons. Maybe I’m walking into a trap .

I thought back to that moment when his hand reached down and pulled me off the floor. My overwhelming perception, even in the midst of that melee, had been one of bluesoft-transparent: trustworthy calm.

Bluepale is stand-offish or shy, common among P’twuas.

Bluebright involves intensity of spirit. And genius.

Ruk came around the corner. As I watched his fluid, supple stride, I re-measured this view against my first impression. No alarms sounded.

He sat down and said, "I am responsible."

"How? On purpose?"

"No. But I asked Sonjec to come. I did that because I’m convinced she will revolutionize music, but nevertheless, I brought her here."

"What happened?"

"It will be difficult for me to communicate."

"Try."

"My people—We, eh, exchange meaning on more than one level."

This was news to me. "Other than spoken language?"

He nodded. "This is a difference between earthhumans and us. Correct?"

"We understand the concept of non-verbal communication. Like…body language."