Off Balance Read online

  One of the medics jumped out of the ship and placed his hand on Ulshan’s shoulder. Even if I understood Aunare, I couldn’t hear what was said from this distance. After a moment, Ulshan sat up with his chin resting on his chest. Two more medics jumped out of the ship, and together, they lifted Ulshan onboard.

  As I watched the ships disappear back through the doors at the bottom of the arena walls, I hoped Ulshan would be okay. Not just his body, but his mind and heart. Having your dreams defeated isn’t an easy thing. Especially when it was done so publicly.

  “Before you start, will you answer a question?” The announcer’s holo head lowered again, blocking my view of the next platform.

  I took a deep breath to settle myself. My skin was still glowing, and my fao’ana were visible. That was probably a good thing. But now that Ulshan was okay, I could take my time. I glanced around the arena to give myself time to think before I responded to the announcer.

  It was eerie that so many people were so, so quiet. I heard someone cough somewhere off to my right, and I knew that everyone was waiting to hear my answer.

  “Okay, but depending on what you ask, I might not answer.”

  The announcer gave a soft laugh. “Fair, but I hope you answer this one. Why don’t you speak our language? Is that what’s kept you from giving any interviews?”

  “That was two questions, mister.”

  He didn’t speak again, and I guessed it didn’t matter. I could answer these questions.

  I licked my lips as I considered my words. “I don’t remember what happened exactly in the first days of Liberation Week. It’s a blur. I remember sleeping in the security room in the basement of our house on Earth. I remember falling out of my bed with the explosion that destroyed the house above our heads. I remember my mother screaming to run, and the guards being with us, but…” I stared at the platform under my feet, not really seeing anything.

  My heart pounded, but I told myself it was over. Long over.

  “Everything went wrong.” I took a breath, forcing myself to let go of the emotions that clouded my memories, but it was hard to relive the past without feeling like I was stuck back in it.

  “Looking back at it now, I know that SpaceTech was prepared to wipe us all out. They tracked where we lived and ate and played. It was a planned genocide, even if the average Earther didn’t realize it at the time. But I remember watching Aunare die. I remember the blood and the screams and being so impossibly scared and gripping my mother’s hand as she begged me to stop glowing. I remember knowing I was going to die if I didn’t make it stop, but I couldn’t. I was six. I was terrified. Everyone was dying and body parts of the Aunare were in the streets and I was so, so, so scared. We found places to hide for a few hours before running again, and it seemed like it would never end, and I was exhausted. At times it felt like I couldn’t take another step, but my mother was amazing. She carried me when I got too tired. I know now how exhausted she must’ve been, but she fought for us. She kept us alive. We hid and ate out of dumpsters and tried to be invisible, but…”

  I let out a shaky breath. I could feel that fear again as if it were there and new and fresh, but it’d been a long time since we ran in the streets.

  “I know we had a plan in case something happened, but it obviously didn’t work out. It was the chaos that saved us, I think. Everyone was running scared. But I was a kid, and I kept defaulting to speaking Aunare and glowing and I was going to get us killed. We were alone by then. Our guards had been killed within the first couple of days. They did their best, and…and my mother did what she had to do.”

  I looked up at the announcer then. “You can’t fault her for what she did.”

  The holo head lowered. If his green eyes had been anything but compassionate, I might not have finished the rest, but they were. “We won’t. It’s a miracle you survived.”

  There was no way for me to see everyone’s face in the arena to know if they would agree with him, but I was sure if he had been chosen to host this event, then he must be someone important. Someone that could speak for the Aunare.

  “My mother took what was left of our money and had my memory wiped by an Aunare doctor.”

  There were gasps in the crowd, and some people shouted words I didn’t understand.

  “We ran into him in an alley. He didn’t want to do it, but she shoved money at him. Everything we had left. He knew who we were, and I remember him wanting nothing to do with us, but the money…” That wasn’t important. “Once it was done, I remembered who I was. What I was. I remembered the events of the last few days. Apparently, they were too traumatizing—too deeply embedded—to remove. But I didn’t remember anything about what it meant to glow or what my fao’ana were or even if I had any. I only knew that it was dangerous if I glowed, so I did my best not to. The rest of it—Lorne, my time on Sel’Ani, the language—all of it was gone. The doctor was able to mess with my frequencies enough to help keep my glow to a minimum, but I saw Jesmesha. She helped.” I held my arms out. “Obviously. But she said that my memories are probably gone for good. I’m trying to relearn the language, but it seems that maybe there was a block placed on that, and no one is sure what that means. So, I might never speak it. If you’re offended by—”

  “I’m not.” His tone was firm, and his head jerked back a few feet. “Is that why you’re refusing interviews? You were afraid we’d be offended?”

  I stared up at the man’s too large head floating just above me. “I figured everyone had seen enough of what happened to me already, and I needed some time. I still need some time. And I started watching the news.” That had been a mistake. “The more I watched, the more I saw what you thought of me. What all of you thought of me. Different planet. Different people. Same old hatred for a halfer who has done nothing but live.”

  I looked out into the sea of faces that were watching me now. Some of them looked at me, some of them looked away, but it didn’t matter. They could think what they want. “I guess I really didn’t see the point in talking to any reporters. Why sit through the pretense of an interview when everything I said would be twisted anyway? When they were just going to blame me and hate me for something that was never my fault? Honestly, I’d gotten enough of that on Earth.” I blew out a breath. “And do you want me to be really honest?”

  “Please.”

  “I guess I didn’t think giving an interview would make a difference. Everyone seems to blame me for starting a war, but the war started when I was a child. It started with Liberation Week, and that had nothing to do with me. I was six years old. So, I refused to give an interview. I refuse to give them one more piece of ammunition to use against me.”

  I’d thought it’d been quiet before, but now the silence was deafening.

  Maybe I might regret my words, but I didn’t think I would. Because they were the truth. They were my truth. And if my father or the king or even Lorne disapproved, then that was their problem. Not mine.

  Before the announcer could ask another question, I took off running. It was stupid and impulsive and reckless, but I wasn’t someone who backed down from a deal I’d made. I wasn’t about to start now.

  The thickening barrier air popped as I jumped—leaping over the pool of acid—but I was moving too slow.

  Shit.

  I’d made a mistake. Another mistake.

  I was falling.

  Falling.

  I had a fraction of a second to panic—to think about Lorne and how I’d never see him again, to think I might have been really stupid, to realize Roan was going to watch me get impaled on that wall if I even made it that far—and then my chest hit something.

  My hands clamped around a wire strung horizontally in the center of the pit. It was invisible and felt a little like thread, but it was strong enough for me to grab hold of and flip my body over it. On the second spin around, I lifted my feet onto the wire and jumped. This time the air wasn’t making me Earther slow, and I only had half the distance to go. But it didn�
�t have the momentum of a running jump.

  I didn’t breathe again until my stomach hit the top of the wall. I gripped the other side to steady myself and carefully stood.

  A few in the arena cheered. I looked down at Roan and swiped my hand across my forehead in an exaggerated motion.

  He crossed his arms, and I knew that if anyone could’ve seen the fear on my face for that single split second, he would’ve. “Frostily stupid, babe.” He mouthed the words to me, but for some reason, they just made me smile.

  “You guys know that there’s a total cheat? Back there.” I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder, to where the wire should’ve been. I glanced at it but still couldn’t see anything there.

  There was some sprinkled laughter from around the arena.

  “It’s not a cheat. You have to be at the right frequency to feel the texture in the air and then still another frequency to manage to get over it. To use it. You felt that?” The announcer asked.

  “Obviously. I guess. Or else I guess I would’ve died. Right?”

  “Right.” The announcer chuckled.

  They’d stopped with the lights and the smoke and the musical reveal of the next stage, but I stood back to watch it set up.

  It took maybe twenty seconds before it was done, and then there was a boom to mark the start of the next phase.

  A pole arced up and back down like a hill, with little pegs running up the top side of the pole. There were rings threaded through the pole and held in place by every third peg. The rings were maybe two feet in diameter spaced about eight feet apart.

  This stage was all about ab strength and stamina. I’d seen some similar setups in Earther gyms, but usually, poles weren’t so high from the ground and the rings hanging from them weren’t spaced so wide apart. But if I swung hard enough and pushed up, I could make the rings jump over the pegs, but that was going to get exhausting quickly. I couldn’t monkey from one to the next when spaced that far apart. Especially when moving up the inclined pole. I’d have to jump the rings over two pegs before I could swing close enough to the next ring to grab it.

  My abs burned just looking at the setup.

  This was impossible. I could maybe jump a peg or two, but so many and at that steep of an incline? Down would be easier, but I’d be exhausted by then if I even got that far.

  I looked down, and there didn’t seem to be anything below the pole. Just air until the hard arena floor. From the peak of the pole’s hill to the arena floor, it had to be at least a hundred feet.

  Ouch.

  I’d jumped from fifty feet in the gym, but only onto its springy, magic floor. When I jumped out the window of my box and fell maybe ten feet to the arena floor, I’d landed hard enough to rattle my teeth. I had to assume that I’d be a flesh pancake if I fell from up there. I knew their healing pods were good, but I was pretty sure they couldn’t fix dead.

  But that was the only way I could think to do it.

  Yep. I was right. This was a test of sheer strength, stamina, and agility. I had to prove I was physically good enough to deserve to win. That was the test here.

  I moved to grab the first ring but drew back my hand before making contact. The ring was a little too shiny at the bottom. “What did you coat the rings with?”

  “Ah, you noticed.”

  I might not have, but the light caught it just right to reflect off whatever film or grease was coating them. They were slick enough to be deadly.

  Okay. So, I couldn’t hope to hold onto the rings. Which meant I’d fall.

  What then? What was the answer?

  I wasn’t about to give up. Not now.

  “Is it too late to ask if there are any rules about how I get through this?”

  “No rules. Not timed. Just get through it alive.”

  “Cool.” Because I wasn’t going to do it the way I think it was set up. I took a running leap—pushing off with everything I had—and gripped the lowest peg.

  I swung my body back and forth a few times to gain some momentum and then heaved my legs up to grip the pole.

  When I felt secure enough, I twisted until I was on top of the pole, and then slowly stood up.

  There were a few shouts and claps from the arena, and I started walking up the pole, using the pegs as stairs until I reached the peak.

  I paused to give the crowd a wave before running down the other side. When I was five pegs from the end, I jumped—flipping a few times, before spotting my landing.

  This time there were more cheers, so I gave them a little bow, and then laughed when the announcer’s oversized holo head hovered in front of me again. His eyes were wide, and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he spoke.

  “I don’t think that’s how they intended this phase to go.”

  I held my hands up. “Mister. You said no rules, and I took that to mean no rules.”

  There were some laughs as my words scrolled above my head.

  “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you mister.”

  His eyebrows rose for a second. “I guess you told me you don’t remember, I just…” He smiled. “I’m Himani. It’s a pleasure to speak with you again.”

  “Well, Himani. Surviving is about being able to think outside the box very, very quickly. I got pretty damned good at that on Earth.”

  His giant holo head tilted as he studied me. The look on his face was somewhere between curiosity and fascination and amusement. “You’ve changed a lot since I last saw you.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ve seen the videos. So,…” I shrugged. “I can’t be who I was before or what anyone expects me to be. I don’t have the memories or desire to be anyone else other than me. I can only be who I am right now.”

  “And who are you now?”

  I wasn’t sure if I had an answer for that. All I was left with was honesty. “I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.”

  “Hmmm.” Himani seemed to take this in. “What else happened on Earth? What was running like? What was hiding like? What have you been doing these thirteen years?” His questions came one after the other, almost on top of each other. “Please. I think I speak for all of the Aunare when I say we really want to know. We’re tired of guessing at it and really exhausted with what they’re saying on the news.”

  I didn’t want to answer.

  Boom.

  The next phase was ready, which meant I didn’t have to answer. Not yet.

  It didn’t look like anything but thirty yards of open space. There was a red line with a little stack of rocks on either end of it—which I assumed was where this next phase started—and then a blue line thirty yards later. But there was nothing shiny or slippery. No vats of acid. No fire puffing on and off.

  Just a platform of empty space.

  What was the trick?

  I guess I could just run across it and deal with whatever happened as it happened, but that seemed pretty stupid to me.

  There had to be something, but what?

  The only thing that I could see were the lines and the rocks. That had to mean that the rocks came into play for something. Or maybe they weren’t even just rocks.

  I walked to the right pile and picked one up. It was small—maybe two inches in diameter—and heavier than it should’ve been. I tossed it in the air and caught it as I thought. It seemed like a rock to me. No frequency shifts or notes coming from it. Nothing happened when I threw it or caught it.

  I let it drop on the ground, and it just clunked.

  I tried tapping it like I did the crystals—which might’ve been stupid—but nothing happened. Scratched it. Licked it—which got me a few laughs.

  “Fine. Laugh it up. I’ve never seen this course or anything like it. I’m not taking anything at face value.”

  Except for this rock. It really did seem like any old ordinary rock.

  “Will you tell us what it was like on Earth?” Himani’s head was now hovering off to the right of the platform and not obstructing my view of the next phase.
r />   I threw the rock in the air again and caught it while I thought about Himani’s question. What should I say? What should I leave out? I wasn’t sure where to draw the line. But I should share something. “You want me to tell you what happened on Earth after Liberation Week? About my life?”

  “I do. We all do.”

  There was some applause from the audience, and I gave a slow nod.

  Okay. They agreed with Himani. But what did I tell them? Where would I even start?

  “A lot. A lot happened.” I tossed the rock toward the distant blue line and lasers—a stream of lasers from at least ten different spots—shot at the rock, blowing it up into a million pieces.

  Holy shit. I was really glad I threw the rock before I tried running across the stupid platform.

  “Tell us something. Anything. You’ve been here nearly a month, and the only thing I know was that you worked in a diner with your mother. We’ve seen the vids from the assault, your trial, and Abaddon. That’s it.”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “We’d like more.”

  “If I get through this alive, I’ll tell you something.” I closed my eyes and threw another rock. I could feel the frequencies shift as the lasers fired, but that wouldn’t be enough warning to get me through in one piece.

  I grabbed two rocks and threw them. The lasers divided and blew up both.

  With three rocks, I got the same result.

  I moved to grab another rock, but this pile was done. Six rocks gone.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t need very many to complete this phase.

  On the other end of the platform, I counted the rocks. Seven.

  I grabbed two more. I threw one, and then another immediately after it. Only one blew up. But a second later, the other one was blown to bits.

  Five rocks left. That was probably enough.

  It better be enough.

  I guess it all depended on how fast I was.

  Grabbing all five rocks up from the ground, I formed my plan.

  I threw one, then another as I took off running as fast as I could.