Short Story - Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast as Thou Art

So-
A couple o months ago, this story, "Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast as Thou Art" fell into my head, fully formed. It was all I could do to capture it as it tumbled out of my head. I used a copy editor on eLance (sorry, Upwork) and she loved it (well, I was paying her, what was she going to say?) 
I liked it too.
Clarkesworld and half a dozen other magazines, not so much. But, rejection is normal. Until I got to one, who actually took time to write back. The editor there pointed out that stories that objectified women were a hard sell. 
Wait, what? Me? Objectify women? Never!
But, upon reflection, I realized, of course that is what the story did. I was in denial. 

So, in the interest of both wanting this story to be read, but now kind of embarrassed about it, I land the story here. I don't think I will submit it anywhere else for now. 

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Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast as Thou Art

Day 1

The door slid open, making a small phiffft sound. The air inside smelled slightly of ionization, and let off an icy chill that was colder than the room outside. Robert and Dan stopped and looked at each other.

“Day one.”

“Day one. The rest of our lives, buddy.”

“Age quod agis.” Robert muttered.

“What”

“Latin, we must do what we must.”

Dan laughed.

Robert went in first. He was a short, slight man with unruly black hair and freckled skin. He looked permanently nervous or maybe worried as he looked around. The room itself was long and curved, the other end out of sight beyond the bend. Cool white light shone from a curved strip in the ceiling that bent with the room. At regular intervals were rounded cylinders that ran from floor to ceiling. The walls were a sea-blue. The room was clean, sterile, minimal. Robert liked it, especially how quiet it was, unlike the rest of the ship.

“Not so bad,” he said.

“What?” Dan said, pulling up the checklist on his tablet. Dan was taller and heavy set, his head shaved bald. He had a red goatee that desperately needed trimming. “What’s not bad?”

“This,” Robert said, gesturing around them. “Cool, quiet.”

“I know what you mean, brother. You’d think they’d have opened up more of the ship, given a fellow some space to get away eh?”

“Yes,” Robert said as he went over to the first cylinder, tipped up on his feet, and peered through the small rectangle of glass, the window into the cylinder that stood upright.

A sleeping face was barely visible on the other side. Dan tapped his tablet and the window lit up, revealing the face of a young man, his pale skin contrasting with his dark hair, constrained with nylon straps. His body rested against a foam pad.

“So, just like practice, you give him the visual scan, I’ll check his vitals.”

“Sure, like practice, except for reals…” Robert looked at the sleeping man. “Do they dream?”

“Read they don’t. Slowed shit down too much, they’re barely alive.”

“But they are…”

“Yup, and we gotta keep an eye on ‘em to make sure they stay that way.”

“Right. Never could figure why they make us check, when these guys are  hooked up to the main 24/7.”

“Why do they have us do anything?” Dan snorted. “Just to keep us busy, my fellow worker ant. Okay, next.”

Robert and Dan moved a few feet to the next cylinder. The light switched on, and the darker face of a man lit up. Robert scanned it quickly, looking for anything amiss as he had with the last guy—redness, flaking skin, beard growth—anything that might suggest the sleepers were not deep enough in their rest, or that something had gone very wrong. That they might be resting in a new and final way.

“Next,” Dan said.

“Next!”

“Next.”

Robert sighed. His small frame seemed to be getting heavier as they went down the long, curving corridor. “We gotta do all 1000 every day?”

“For the rest of our lives. And our kids lives, and their kids… and their kids…”

“Okay, okay, I know the drill. ‘Cept we don’t have kids.”

“Not yet, but lots of interesting young women on the loading, huh?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Next.”

Robert moved to the next one and the light came on. Later on, in his imagination, he would swear that the light had flickered, as if to say, Wait.

Wait...

I am special.

The light revealed a young woman with full lips and high cheekbones. Her skin glowed slightly under the bright LED light. Robert stopped and did not dare to breathe.

“Check, next!” Dan swiped a button on his tablet and the light in the cylinder switched off.

“Wait!” Robert said, louder and more urgently than he had intended.

“What’s wrong? What do you see?” Dan asked, a slight panic in his voice as he toggled the light back on. What could be wrong on the very first day?

“Nothing, sorry. Nothing. It’s just that she’s… she’s amazing.” Robert leaned in, as if he could get a better look from closer to the glass window.

Dan stepped up and nudged Robert aside. He gave a low whistle.

“Yeah, she’s a looker. I didn’t know you went for the cinnamon type. There’s this girl you might like in the organizing team—”

“Uh sure, but what about this one…” Robert said, moving back to get a better look.

“She’s frozen, buddy,” Dan said, laughing.

“Huh? No, I mean, what about her? What does it say?”

“Oh, uh… botanist. That’s plants.
“Yes. I wonder what kinds? I used to have a garden with my parents.  Well , window boxes really, but we grew plants.”

“Uh-huh. Says she’s Level two, pretty high up there buddy. Her specialty is Ag studies- farming. Figures, we’ll need that. Says she’s from the Dominican Republic.”

“I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Well, maybe you could learn?” Dan said tilting his head. “You’ve got the rest of your life anyways.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s about it.”

“No name?”

“No names on any of them. Why would we need names? When they wake up in 500 years they’ll know their names. We’ll be long dead. Come on…”

Robert stayed, transfixed, until Dan closed the file, turning off the light.

Robert turned and moved on to the next cylinder. He glanced back briefly.

Day 2

“Sleep well, Robert?”

The two were at the front of the sleep chamber room. Dan was waving his card against the wall as the door slid open with a small phiffft. His eyes were bloodshot and his clothing rumpled. Robert, his hair now neatly, if awkwardly, parted, and his shirt tucked in, fidgeted nervously.

“Yes,” he said.

“Hell of a party. Not sure I can take another 80 years or so of that.”

“People will calm down,” Robert said, stepping up briskly to the first cylinder. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Ok, calm down, just a little hung over. I can’t go too fast...”

Several minutes later, Robert’s heartbeat sped up as they neared her cylinder.

He leaned in and waited.

The light went on and there she was.

“Ah, your girlfriend.” Dan gave a small chuckle.

“She is… Uh, she is beautiful.”

“Yeah, too bad you will be dust by the time she wakes up. Come, loverboy, many more to go.”

“She is like a bright star…”

“Huh?”

“A poem, Dan. Keats.” Robert closed his eyes and recited it:

“Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature's patient sleepless eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors;

No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

Dan chuckled. “You’re strange man. I don’t understand most of that, but cool. Gotta find you a girl who can  listen to your poetry…”

Robert did not take his eyes away from the window until the light went out.

Day 3

“Ready?” Dan said, his finger hovering above the toggle. Robert waited a beat and then turned to look at Dan.

“Turn it on.”

“Come on, man, she’s frozen.”

“Turn it on!” Robert said, sounding almost desperate.

“Jeez, ok. Look at you, man, you’re hooked. I think we need to get you a real girl. You didn’t even try with Ileena last night.”

“Huh?” Robert answered, not taking his eyes off the face within the steel tube.

“The girl from Organizing. She was hot for you, man.”

“Uh-huh.” Robert still did not look up.

“She was warm.”

“Huh.”

“You know… not frozen?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You gay, Robert? I don’t care, but it would save time if you told me,” Dan said.

Robert looked over, annoyed. “No.”

“Then why… look, why are you obsessed with this… popsicle?”

“Don’t call Bright Star that.”

Dan opened his mouth and then closed it. Robert looked down, embarrassed.

“Bright Star?”

“Nevermind, check it off, let’s go.” Robert did not look up.

“You gotta get over this shit, man,” Dan said flatly, toggling off the light.

Day 45

“You ready for Bright Star?”

“Don’t make fun of me, Dan. I don’t make fun of Neira.”

“Not making fun. You’re weird man, but that’s ok. Wait, what’s wrong with Neira?”

“Nothing.”

“What? Seriously. Sure, she’s a little chunky…”

“And short.”

“But she’s real.”

“Nevermind. She’s fine, check her off, let’s move on.”

“Naw man, take your time. Like I said, it’s ok.”

“Not in the mood.”

Day 60

“Hola. Me llamo Roberto. Me gusta trabajar en el jardín.” Robert whispered to the glass.

“What?” Dan said.

            “Spanish.”

“Oh. Cool, gonna talk to her huh?”

Robert did not answer, but just smiled.

“What did you say?”

“I told her I like to garden. It was fun growing things.” Robert said, turning away as the light went off in the cylinder.

“You could visit Hydroponics.” Dan suggested.

“Uh… sure.” Robert said. He turned and glanced one more time at the now dark cylinder.

Day 205

“Neira’s pregnant, Robert.”

“You sound worried.”

“Naw… I mean, sure. Lots getting pregnant. Two, maybe three others I know.”

“They’ll have to open B section.”

“Doubtful. A’s supposed to hold 3,000. We’re still 500.”

“499. That guy… Ralph, Rolf, whatever,” Robert said quietly.

“Oh yeah, sad man, sad.”

“Will you marry her?”

“Neira? Yaaah, maybe, sure.”

“Good.”

“How’s your girl?” Dan asked.

Robert lingered as they came to Bright Star ’s cylinder. He did not say a word as Dan toggled the switch. There she was, still the same.

“I wonder what she was like,” Dan said, looking at her report.

“Is… is. Yeah, me too.” Robert said. “ I wonder if she liked to go out to the country on weekends? Maybe she lived out in the countryside, out West?”

Robert stood, lost for a moment. “ I wonder…” He hesitated. “They ever… I mean, what if we just…”

Dan looked up, his eyes narrowing a little in concern.

“What if what, Robert?”

“Nothing.”

“No, Robert, what if what? What if we unfreeze her? This what you’re asking?” Dan’s voice was hard now. Ice cold.

“No.”

“Damn right no.”

“Not even for a minute, just an hour? To say hello…”

Dan toggled the switch, the light went off and he stepped to the next cylinder. Robert followed. But a moment later Dan turned back to him, his face red, his jaw hard-set.

“I like you, Robert, you do your shit right and simple. But you ever even mention what you just said again and I will turn you in to Command so fast.”

“No Dan, I didn’t mean—”

“And you know what, Robbie boy? They will never let your ass in here again. Understood? Clear?” Dan was shaking.

Robert looked down at the floor, polished metal with black tread marks running the curve.

“Yes. Clear.”

Day 4747

“Hey, Junior.”

“Hi, Mr. Robert.”

“He is looking more and more like you every day, Dan,” Robert said with a smile as the door slid open. “You here to see what your dad does?”

“Naw, he’s seen that already, remember, Robert? Tell him, son.”

“I have to turn in a report on what my dad does. For school,” said the tall, somewhat awkward 13 year old.

“Are you going to follow in your dad’s footsteps?” Robert said as they approached the first cylinder.

“Someone has to,” Dan muttered.

“You never had kids Mr. Robert?” Dan Junior asked.

“No,” Robert said, looking above Junior’s head, down the long curving corridor.

“You never found a girl, huh Mister Robert? I mean, a real girl.”

“Son,” Dan said, his voice full of warning.

“It’s ok. Never did, Junior. But I have the next best thing. Bright Star. You know about her?”

“Robert, you don’t have to—”

“It’s ok Dan, it’s ok. Look around you, Junior. Lots of kids, lots of people doing what they were supposed to. Your dad and I do our job too.”

“But you don’t have kids. I thought everyone was supposed to have kids, fill up the ship,” Junior said with the glibness that only a 13 year old has.

“Well yes, true, but that doesn't mean everyone has to.”

“Cause you got that Bright Star lady? She ain’t real.”

“She is real, just not… here.”

“Come on, no more talk, we got 1000 bodies to check. Here son, you can check the reports. Just, uh, let me check ‘em afterwards too.”

Day 6709

“Check, next. Bright Star looked nice today.” Dan toggled the next cylinder.

“She always looks nice,” Robert answered.

Dan smiled. “Next.” He scratched at his beard, speckled with gray.

Robert moved in to look through the little window. He drew in a sharp breath and backed away. He turned and vomited.

“Oh crap,” Dan said, punching an alarm button on the cylinder. But it was too late. The person inside, the thing inside, was already gone. A flashing red light lit up the curve. Within a minute a team of medics arrived.

Too late.

Robert was leaning against the wall opposite the cylinder, with his hands against the cool surface and his face in between them, breathing heavily. Dan came over and put his hand on Robert’s shoulder.

“It’s ok, buddy. I double checked, never any issue at all. Something failed overnight big time. Must have shut down the whole thing, never a peep. All these years. I guess I suspected it would happen sooner.”

He stopped. Robert was shaking. Tears rolling down.

“You ok, bud?”

Robert looked up, his faced etched in worry.

“No, no, it’s ok, Robert. We already checked. Remember?”

“It could happen. I-I know you think I’m an idiot, Dan.”

“No—”

“Let me finish. I know you don’t understand about her, and me. I know I’ll be long gone when she wakes up. I just thought… I always knew that she would live on. I kind of like that idea. It… gives me comfort… But if she… if these things fail…”

“Well, that’s our job then, isn’t it? Look, until you die, you’ll get to make sure she is ok. That’s all anyone can do, right? Man, Robert, when I think about my kids… and how one day I won’t be here… I get, you know, I get real down. But what can I do? Just focus on the here and now is all, right? Nothing is forever, man, even one day she will die too. It will be hundreds of years from now on some planet we’ll never see… but she will die. And there is nothing you can do, except take care of her now.”

Robert nodded, wiping his face.

“Come on.” Dan gently pulled his hand away from Robert’s shoulder. “Let’s do what we can for the rest.”

Day 24107

“Hello, Mr. Robert.” Dan Junior greeted Robert outside the curved room. Robert looked up as it momentarily startled.

“Hello, Dan. Who is this?”

“This is Mark, you know him. My son.”

“He is so big!”

“I am almost 25, sir,” Mark said.

“Really?”

Dan Junior glanced nervously between Robert and Mark.

“Mr. Robert, Mark was here last week too. Remember?”

Robert coughed and looked at the two men, his eyes watery.

“Oh. Of course. Of Course.” He looked down. The door slid open with a phift. Mark went in, but Robert grabbed Dan Junior by the sleeve, a worried look on his face.

“Is he… Am I being replaced?”

Dan Junior gave a weak smile. “No sir… I mean, yes, but don’t worry. I checked with command. You can come with us as much as you want. I promised Dad I would make sure you got in here every day, and I aim to keep that promise.”

Robert let out a sigh of relief. 

The two went inside. As they rounded the curve, Robert’s pace picked up. He said nothing, but shuffled along after Mark and Dan Junior.

“Mr. Robert, Mark here moved into the new section B they opened last month.”

“Hmmm? Oh, good.”

“He and Eva had a girl last month, his second.” Dan Junior sounded proud.

“Hmmm. Hmmm.” Robert stood in front of the cylinder, eager, waiting.

The light came on. There she was, soft cinnamon skin, full lips and sculpted cheekbones. Robert smiled, his wrinkled and puckered face reflected slightly in the glass. .

“Her name is Juneko…”

“No… no, it’s Bright Star,” Robert said, more to himself than anyone.

Mark looked at his father with confusion. Dan Junior laughed lightly. “He’s talking about her, Mark.” He nodded towards the cylinder. 

Dan Junior toggled the switch off after a moment. Robert seemed to deflate a little.

“Sorry, Mr. Robert, we gotta move along. There is always tomorrow.”

Robert nodded.

“My little girl, Mr. Robert—Juneko—she’s just a few weeks old,” said Mark lightly. “Maybe you could stop by and see her. I can show you around B.”

Robert looked up. “You have kids?” Mark nodded. “Your grandfather, would be very proud. Great grandkids... great grandkids... it is… great grandkids. Their children’s great grandchildren will never meet this woman. Will never meet Bright Star…”

Robert looked back at the dark cylinder.

“Section B, you say? So many children…”

Day 26384

“I can make it,” Robert said, his voice faint but his hands able to push Mark’s away.

“I just don’t want you to fall.”

“Let him be, Mark.”

Piffft.

Robert pushed a lightweight walker in front of him. It took great effort to move, but he managed. Each step made him wince and after only a few he was winded. But he kept going.

Finally, they were there.

Dan Junior toggled on the light.

Robert turned to the two men. “I just want a moment.”

They nodded and went on to the next cylinder, leaving the light on in Bright Star’s cylinder. .

Robert stood for a very long time in front of the glass, his cheeks wet. Gently, he put his hand on the glass. Beneath it, the woman inside rested peacefully in a deep and dreamless sleep, unaware of the world around her. Her full lips and delicate cinnamon skin seemed to glow in the light.

“Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art,” Robert said softly.

The light in the window flickered off.

I just want to let you know that the musician (band?) Yafrekinmonke has been working on a unique project- a soundtrack to the novel "Levels".

 

When they approached me at first I was not sure how this would work. But what they have created is 12 tracks that create an ambient mood suggested by scenes from the book.

I personally like it and hope you will too. You can open it in Spotify and let it run- the music is Electronic Ambient, so it, as Brian Eno once said – ambient music should "...accommodate many levels of listening attention without enforcing one in particular; it must be as ignorable as it is interesting.”

https://open.spotify.com/album/4sWQIDgAFepwQQgcl32LFw

Levels II- unedited first chapter

Ok- so I am revving up and taking another crack at the follow up to Levels. I last touched this a year ago (literally, last April) - then I had about 500 words. So today I sat down and hammered away the intro. As usual, this is raw stuff, un edited, un proofed.
enjoy!

Levels II

I am on fire.

I try to open my eyes but the light… is strong, so strong, so very painful. It burns my eyes even through the closed lids. I wait. I turn away, open my eyes and see the concrete. I am close, so close, I can see the dirt on the surface. I can see the concrete itself crumbling, the specs illuminated by the light. I take comfort in the closeness of the grey, the feeling of containment. I squint, chance turning back to the light, but it still burns so bright. It is orange, on fire, like nothing I have ever seen before. It burns even thought I turn away. I miss the cool dead lights inside, the dull blue glow, a feeble light cast off by excited elemental gasses. I miss the cool light bouncing off walls, so close you can touch them, light so close… I miss the inside.

I am outside. On the out side of where I live. I am lit with the fire of the brightest light I have ever seen, at its mercy. I can feel the heat. And feel the wind. The wind picks up as the light burns a deeper shade of orange. Is it diming, it is becoming less terrible to behold? I turn, slightly. The light still painful, but the pain is less. I look up, grey blue streaked with brilliant colors, oranges, pinks, reds, purples and yellows. The sky itself is on fire. It is immense and awesome. Terrifying.

I hold my hand up to block the light, to allow my eyes to travel freely across the horizon. From end to end it is on fire, yet getting less by the second. After a moment the light itself fades from view and only the fire-lit sky is left. My eyes are grateful for the absence of the light and they search frantically in front of me. I look for a path, a street, perhaps a tunnel.

But the only thing that lay in front of me is deep, endless sky and the yawning abyss. I open my mouth to scream but the wind takes my voice.

 

“Tal! Tal!” Talbot Singh hears a voice and frantic knocking. Momentarily he panics, afraid he will fall, but then he opens his eyes. He can barely see the walls that surround him, dim light slipping into cracks. He is confined and he relaxes.  He is safely enclosed in a cabinet at the back of a small electronics store inside a large mall on level 29. He slides open the small door and is friend, Kerr, shakes him, a smile on his face.

“Wake up man! Dreams again eh? You were screaming, drove away the last customer.”

“Sorry.” Tal mumbles and carefully pulls himself up and out, onto the floor, out of the cabinet he has been calling his bed for the past month. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get another place man. It’s nineteen hundred.”

“Ungh. We still on for tonight?”

“Sure. But you may want to find a shower first, you reek. Gonna have to fumigate this place when you leave.”

“Won’t be long now.”

“You said that two weeks ago. Never mind. Go get a shower, the bath houses close pretty soon. Me and the guy will meet you at the club then?”

“Sure.” Talbot stood up, rubbing his hair. “Sure.”

 

Several hours later, Talbot walked into a club that managed to be overly bright and drenched in shadows at the same time. Loud music throbbed to a full house. The celling was a comforting height, low and close enough to touch, bodies, lights and walls all confined Talbot. He felt safe. He had spent the last six weeks hiding out in the back of Kerr’s small electronics shop, which was tucked in the back of a large mall of shops in the center of the Assembly, the section of level 29 where Talbot had been born and raised. He had worked as an Assist, a sort of lawyer/fixer who helped people in the neighborhood whenever they had to deal with the state or the Protocol.

Two months ago he had a client end up killed in his small jewelry shop. As Talbot unraveled the case he found himself drawn into a much larger case. He had discovered that the Client, Mr. Mill, had been involved with kidnapping young university women. He would hand them off to an agent who would then, with the help of a Doctor on an upper level, reprogram the girls. The girls were then entered into a space program that sent them to Mars, a one way ticket. Although the bounty for finding people “willing” to go to Mars was generous, Talbot had not figured out why a group of people from the upper levels would bother dealing with a small number of people, surely there was a greater profit to be made from other, equally unsavory businesses?

His work on the case had put him in contact with one of the more notorious gangs from lower level, the Treasure gang. One of the higher up in Treasure, Geertz, had used Talbot to find out about the kidnaping ring and to also get a hold of the Doctor. Treasure did see both profit and reason to take people and program them to make them acceptable for the Mars program. The main difference is that Treasure was able to find many willing volunteers from the lower levels. Most lower level inhabitants however, did not qualify for the space program. Now that Treasure had the Doctor, they could make lower level people fit the bill for the program, a win set for all.

But Treasure was a minor concern compared to the thread that Talbot had pulled right before everything unraveled. He had followed a woman, Aria Olsen, up to her meeting with an upper level politician. She ended up killing the guy, but then ended up dead herself. Talbot knew that the conspiracy went up to much higher levels still. And that it must involve a much large conspiracy. He was worried about what the truly powerful might be able to do to him, should they discover his part.

Talbot had gotten Treasure to fake his death, allowing him to disappear. He had spent the last six weeks laying low. Most of it spent in Kerr’s shop, and most of that time spent sleeping in the tiny cubby hole in the back. Sleeping wasn’t really the word for it.  Most of the time he would doze off, only to wake up from nightmares. He lost track of time, he had not spoken to his parents in weeks, fearful of getting them involved. He had not been outside the mall on over a month.

Kerr was right, Talbot thought, he did need to get out.

He just wasn’t sure this club was what he needed. The audio and visual assault would be too much for most people, but it was overwhelming after his isolation for so long.

He carefully made his way around the edge of the club’s large dance floor, finally finding Kerr and some others crowded into a small booth. The booth offered some privacy but no escape from the music. Talbot nodded as the four in the booth all yelled a hello at him. All he saw was their mouths moving. Kerr got up and let Talbot slide in. Talbot smiled, thankful that Kerr understood without asking his need to hide a little. Talbot felt very exposed despite the club’s deep shadows.

They had not been there twenty minutes when a petite girl, or was it a boy, came up.  Talbot had several drinks in his system and his vision was blurring, he looked at the person standing in front of their table and squinted. Kerr waived the waif away.

“Where’s Alexa!? She’s our waitress!” He screamed at the clubber. They rolled their eyes and thrust out their hand, a small white note in it. Kerr reached out to grab it but it was withdrawn. The creature shook their head and pointed to Talbot, who visibly shrank, his eyes suddenly clear as adrenaline shot into his system. They thrust their hand out again and Talbot took the paper, his hand shaking.

In the dim light he looked at it, it was an envelope, no writing on it. He carefully opened the end and pulled out an all-black transit card. Color visibly drained from his face.

“I have to go!” he screamed at Kerr.

“I’ll come too” Kerr responded, but Talbot held up his hand and shook his head. He slipped out as Kerr got up, again putting his hand up to stop Kerr’s protestations.

Rather than the welcoming feeling he had when he walked in, the rough, harsh music and the persistent beat seemed to push him out of the club, onto the street in front. Three large men in dark suits stood across the way, under an office building’s overhang. Talbot briefly thought about making a run for it, but decided it would be suicide. Shaking like a leaf he walked across the street. He had his hands out of his pockets, down at his side, palms flat out.

“Easy going guys, no trouble here.”

“Neither we.” The largest of the three grunted. “Mr. Geertz says to follow us.”

“Well, uh, you see guys, I’m sort of in the middle of chatting up a nice-“

“Mr. Geertz says to bring you back. Any ideas on how we do that?” The same man said, his voice low, even.  Talbot shook his head.

“I can go maybe then, with you. Uh… lead the way.”

“That’s a good way.” The man grunted and he took off, the other two discreetly falling in behind Talbot.

Talbot panic almost lost control as they made their way down the mostly empty streets. As they walked along he began to recognize where they were headed. They were going to Jensen’s neighborhood. Jensen was one of Geertz’s hired goon, nothing good had ever come out of visiting the wholly disagreeable man.  

“I thought we were going to see Geertz?” He asked, his voice cracking. The three men did not respond.

A minute later they ended up at the door to Jensen’s small street level apartment building. They went in and up to Jesen’s floor. Talbot was surprised to see April, Geertz’s assistant, in the hall. She made only brief eye contact and almost imperceptibly shook her head.

The door to the flat was open, Talbot felt himself being pushed in, he stumbled and blinked. At the far wall was Geertz, standing over the prone body of Jensen. 3

“Singh. What’s your connection to this?” Talbot blinked some more, feeling disoriented because of the drinks, because of Geertz, because a man who had been nothing but evil to him was now dead, his limbs akimbo. Talbot glanced quickly around, the apartment had been trashed.

“My connection?” Talbot managed after several beats.

“This your work?” Geertz said, his tone even. Talbot tried to clear his mind. What was Geertz’s game? Did he really think that Talbot had done this? Geertz always had the answers, was already a step ahead. Was he really in the dark?

“Don’t pretend with me Singh. If you did this I can’t help you. Just because you’re legally dead doesn’t mean you can’t die again.”

“How... why do you think it was me? Come on…” Talbot said, his mind still swimming to the surface, trying desperately to break the water.

“He was not exactly your friend Mr. Singh.”

“I swear, it wasn’t me…”

“Then who?!” Geertz raised his voice.

“I- I don’t know…”

“Tell me who Singh!”

Talbot looked around, his face a mask of puzzlement and fear. “But , I don’t know!”

“You’re not listening Singh! Tell me who did this! Tell me or your end will be slow and painful.”

“But, I don’t.. .“ Talbot shook his head. “Ok, ok, I get it.” Talbot swallowed hard; he really wished Geertz had just said he wanted to hire him. He knelt to look at the prone form of Jensen in closer detail. The body was already somewhat stiff, he had been dead for several hours. There was no pool of blood, no obvious wounds. He had not been stabbed nor had he been shot. Jensen was young, but Talbot supposed he could have just up and died.  Then he noticed the arms, both arms covered in deep red scratches. He recalled the last time he had visited. He sniffed the air, a faint trace was still there.

“Drugs.” Talbot said, standing back up slowly, aware that he might fall over, his head still thick.

“Drugs?”

“Last time I was here… months ago mind you, but last time, he was using some sort of drug. It had a smell. Do you smell that still? I don’t know what it is, and, believe me I didn’t ask.”

Geertz looked around, opened a drawer, then another. Then, looked up at a high shelf above the bed in the corner. A small box sat there. Talbot saw it too and went over to pull it down. Inside was empty, but the smell was strong. Talbot looked up, a question on his face.

“Migdahl. The mig. Tightly controlled, we don’t deal it.”

“Why not?” Talbot asked, surprised that there was anything that the Treasure would steer clear of. Geertz just smirked and kicked at Jesen’s arms.

“Super addictive stuff” Talbot turned to see April in the doorway. “total crap high, but cheap, a little goes a long way. But yeah, cannot be kicked. You need a bounce every five, six hours. Kind of surprised he was out. Must have been terrible way to go, looks like he literally tried to peel his own skin off.”

“Why would he be out?” Talbot asked, almost to himself. “And if he was out, why not go out and get more?”

“It happens Singh, it’s what kills mig junkies most of the time, they forget, they lose track, their fixer isn’t around, a few hours later, dead.”

“So go to the Medkit and get a patch-“”There are none Tal.” April said softly. “No fix, no cure.”

“Sounds like a perfect product” Talbot mumbled. Geertz’s head snapped up.”Mr. Singh, we’re not animals… plus, the drug is cheap, tightly controlled and you need to be around the customer all the time. Too much of a hassle.”

Talbot looked around again and shook his head. “The place has been hit. Someone was looking for something, held him up, trying to get answers. May have even known he was on this stuff and used that against him.”

“Or,” April said “He tore up the joint looking for more stuff.”

Talbot shook his head, not convinced, then he smailed.

“Ok, so, Mr Geertz, if not you, who?”

”Excuse me?”

“He’d been on this stuff for a while, I saw him last about 6 weeks ago, right.”

“If you say so…”

“Yes, so, maybe he got some someplace else, but six weeks supply, at least, probably more…” Talbot trailed off and gave Geertz a meaningful look. Geertz’s face clouded over.

“Find me who killed this man Singh, who is behind this. I am not asking, I am telling you to do this. April will help you.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. If another gang is around here we need to know.”.

“And if it is not a gang?” Talbot said, the answer already in his head by the time he asked the question.

“Then we are all going to die. You have the card Mr. Singh, go deep. Do not call me until you have an answer. “

Levels reviewed in Publisher's Weekly!

A generally favorable review of Levels in Publisher's Weekly has appeared!!!
http://www.publishersweekly.com/978-1-5375-9839-0

"Fans of imaginative science fiction that integrates a whodunit plot line into a well-constructed imagining of the future, such as James S.A. Corey’s Expanse series, will enjoy Richards’s thoughtful novel. Talbot Singh is an “assist,” whose job is “to make sure that when things happened to a family, those things went as well as could be expected.” Talbot has his hands full when a jeweler, Jay Mill, is shot to death in his store, but, since nothing was stolen, Talbot suspects that Mill was the target of a professional hit. In the best hard-boiled tradition, Talbot’s involvement rubs the official investigators the wrong way, forcing him to do his own discreet digging into the murder. But while the central concept is familiar, the setting is not. The killing takes place in an unnamed multilevel city connected by thousands of elevators; status is determined by the level on which one lives, and the cost of traveling to one of the top levels is half a year’s wages for the average resident. The superior worldbuilding offers plenty of potential for a sequel. (BookLife)"