Chapter 1: Weather Forecast
She would always remember the feel of her Aunt's hand, as she and her mother huddled around her. Fluttering pretty voices like bird song filled her ears and they spoke in hushed excited voices. Her mother's eyes were sad, but her voice happy.
"My daughter, you have good hands." She was confused, hands were hands. What could they truly say about her?
"She is destined to be great, but here--here it breaks. Her line of destiny should be whole but it is broken in two places." She felt the warm, dry fingertip of her aunt mapping the lines of her hand. She winces as a sharp nail digs into one spot.
"Here." And again. "And here."
Both brown eyes look into hers and she does not know how to respond.
The only bright spot in the room was the burning red of the ember that hovered at the end of the incense stick. She watched as it ate its way down the slim brown stalk transforming the rough wood into plumes of ethereal smoke that danced seductively around the room leaving a scent trail in its wake. Curled up with her back resting against the wall of her room with a pillow clutched to her chest she gazed at it in silence.
The moon outside her window lit up the room in shadows and silver, and drifting in on the cool spring air was the sound of her housemate, Kitt's, voice as she sang to herself in her room. Its an old song, one that she sings every night and Lian has come to love.
On the nightstand by her side is a pack of letters bundled up and worn. She needs to get around to answering them, but she will apologize on the phone later to her parents. In front of her is a letter, the paper thick and scented. A summons from an old friend asking for a favor, though Lian acknowledges that it really isn’t so much a favor as a demand. It’s the training all the people of the Hues have learned, to reject a request from one of the Pure of Echelon is professional and social suicide.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There's such a lot of world to see.
Yet, there’s something exciting about the prospect—and she'll stay hopeful. It could be a great opportunity and maybe it'll make enough so that she can finally focus on living rather than simply just staying alive. She fell asleep as the ember and incense burned away, humming the song her neighbor sang every night as a lullaby to the moon.
There’s such a lot of world to see.
A sharp knock on her door startled her from her dreams and with a sigh she yanked her comforters down from over her head, her usual defense against a too cheerful sun beaming its morning greetings into her face.
“Good morning Lian.” The cheerful call of Miss Jolie sang out through the door. By now Lian had learned that ignoring her would only make the knocking louder and the good mornings more cheerful.
“Go away.” She called out, the words annoyed but the tone friendly.
“It’s a lovely day, though the weather is forecasting possible rain. Don’t forget your umbrella today, doll.” Miss Jolie called back to her, and Lian listened until the sound of her heels had disappeared downstairs before throwing her blankets off and getting out of bed. The window was the first thing she looked out at, scanning the other rooftops and stopping to take a deep breath of the fresh morning air.
This was one of the best things about living in Echelon, the smoke and haze had not quite reached them yet, even in the Pastels.
She only paused for that one deep breath of air before she was a whirlwind of motion. Brushing her hair quickly she tied it back into a neat bun, severe and simple and put on the usual work uniform of a black tailored knee length dress and white neck bow. She closed the window with a snap and was down the stairs meeting her boarding housemates along the way.
Kitt waved her over to sit down in her usual spot, the crisp grey patisserie uniform setting off the chocolate brown of her skin and her hair was neatly plaited out of the way. “I can’t wait 'til tonight. Two glorious days off, I can finally sleep in. I've got a new book I've been trying to finish.”
“Yea? I didn’t know you'd already finished the last one.” Lian replied as she poured herself a generous helping of Miss Jolie's perfectly brewed coffee, determined to caffeinate for the long day. “Heddy sent me a letter. She wants to meet up at her laboratory in the Lowers.”
“Heddy? Hasn’t it been years? What does she want this time?” Kitt rolled her eyes as she bit into her breakfast. The disdain was evident on her face. The two had met once before and it had been like water and oil.
“Dunno. Just needed a favor—mentioned there might be pay.”
Kitt snorted, earning a raised eyebrow from Miss Jolie, “That’d be a first. When are you going?”
“After work, she has a dinner meeting but asked me to wait for her. Said she'd be back by 9 at the latest.” She saw her friend's jaw tighten out of concern.
“These crazy 'Pure' ones. Always making us dance to their tune. Be careful Lian, you know—”
“Yeah, I do.” She snapped before nudging her in quiet acknowledgement. “Thanks for worrying about me.”
“You’d do the same for me. Text me if you need me.”
“And ruin your crazy date night with your new book? I'll be fine.”
In retrospect, she should have realized it seemed too good to be true and she had waited outside Heddy's office as 9 o'clock came and went and then the hands marched on towards 10. She had given up at 10:30 and was now waiting huddled under an awning trying to avoid the summer rainstorm that had unleashed and was currently drumming cheerfully all along the station. Despite Madame Jolie's warning she had forgot her umbrella.
The headlights of the train pulling in caused her to look up and dashing in the car when it arrived she found herself a seat in a nearly empty car—nearly empty aside from the single other occupant who seemed deeply entranced in whatever he was reading, barely even acknowledging her presence. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The women of the Hues all hated riding the trains late at night, especially on the weekends when the men of Echelon went on the prowl and seemed to think any unaccompanied woman of the Hues was looking for companionship (paid or not).
Wondering briefly what had happened to Heddy, she shivered from the cold and watched as the glowing dots over the door counted down the stops. Nine stops left until she reached home and could finally relax.
Her toes crinkled in the wet socks that were sloshing around in her shoes, if her mother could see her now she was sure she'd be getting a lecture. Lian had had the option of following the very carefully planned out and safe route that most people of the Hues followed, especially the women, it was a guaranteed route to success, her mother and elders had always repeated to her.
Then again Lian had been born with an independent streak, one that made it difficult for her to quietly follow the plan others had set out for her. Contrary, stubborn, a pain in the ass, she had heard it all but what everyone really didn’t understand was she didn’t agree with their definition of success. A small voice nagged at her though, asked her if this life she was living could really be considered successful in comparison. Tonight she was too tired to ponder the implications and simply went back to staring at the various advertisements lining the train.
The advertisements were the usual, pale skinned smiling women and men advertising various luxury items. Her eyes roved over a glossy spread of women with colored skin, impossible beautiful perfect versions of the women of the Hues advertising the various Flower districts that dotted Echelon. It was the same old story, same old pictures, until she noticed a new glossy advertisement, the colors still vivid. The Great Exposition of Echelon, Welcome to all—come see the newest marvels that the smartest of Echelon were creating to make life on Atlas better.
Her eyebrow quirked in interest as she noted the dates to herself. Maybe the girls of her boarding house would like to go, though she could already hear Kitt's sarcastic remark about how the Pure simply took all the credit for the work of their more vibrantly colored neighbors. She thinks that maybe she could invite her family for a day as she scans the participants and is surprised to see schools of the Hues being represented. It seems like this is going to be something different to look forward to. She'd heard rumors that the new leaders of Echelon were much more progressive, and that the separation between the Hues and the Pure was growing smaller—maybe those rumors were right.
A loud shout of laughter startled her from her thoughts, and jumping slightly she watched as a pair of obviously wealthy, and very drunk men staggered their way into her cabin. She grimaced inwardly though maintained her serene outward façade, her fingers tightened imperceptibly on her backpack. Steadfastly looking forward she felt their eyes on her and she shifted slightly in her seat. She became hyper aware that her dash in the rain had left her severe black word dress clinging to her skin, outlining every detail.
The blinking lights of the train showed she had four more stops before she was home safe. Behind the men appraising her figure, the glossy knowing smiles of the beautiful Companions of the Flower District stared at her. She felt the train pull to a stop before starting, three more stops to go. She hoped she was overreacting, suspicious for no reason—but already her mind was running through possible scenarios.
Two versus one the odds weren’t good, and it had been years since she had practiced. She heard the chanting of all the women of the Hues, do what they want, don’t fight. It will be over quick and you will survive. She remembers the few times she had heard of Hueian women fighting, their trials had been very public, their persecution a warning.
She hesitates and tries to ignore them, sensing it more then seeing it when they stand up and start to make their way over, she can smell the familiar recycled scent of the air conditioning and feels the otherwise silent car closing in on her. They come closer and she bites her tongue, she has learned long ago that fighting only brings punishment. She does not want to give them the excuse to say she deserved it. Time slows and she feels phantom fingers around her neck, caressing it. She is still, torn—she has already fought so hard and built herself back up but why is her resolve still so weak?
They are almost to her now, her fist clenches—then a sudden movement as someone sits down across from her, blocking the noisy pair from her view. She looks at him blankly as he merely glances at her with mild good humor, gesturing at the light above her, “Sorry was this seat taken? The light is better here, and the print of my book is small.”
She shook her head, her fist unclenching. “No, it's fine.”
She watches as he nods an acknowledgement to the two men who mutter something and continue on their way. She feels the weight lift off her shoulders, though part of her is angry at herself. Still unable to protect herself, still weak. She wants to say to the man reading his book with messy curly brown hair that she doesn’t need him to save her, but she knows deep down that it isn’t quite true, at least not in the hierarchy of this world. She hates that truth, resentment burning sullenly. Instead she just goes back to reading advertisements as the stops tick closer until finally it is hers. As she gets up to leave she pauses as she passes him, and hurriedly nods to him, “Thanks for earlier.”
He looks up at her with brown eyes that are kind, pausing as he blinks at her before a smile crosses his face and she realizes that he's actually probably closer to her age then she had originally thought. “I’m sure you had it all under control, two against one seemed a little unfair is all.”
She simply nods and leaves not noticing that the rain has stopped.
