"I did not screw off," Randal said. "I had a perfectly respectable C average."
Casper snorted. "You barely passed."
Del had nothing to say. He would have given anything for a barely passing record, but he would never even take a college class. He hadn't really graduated from high school. His teachers arranged some diploma thing verifying he did his work visually and through music. Their report said his illiteracy stemmed from neurological differences in his brain. Del had been too ashamed to care what the hell they meant. He knew the truth. He was stupid. He knew it every time he saw his brother Windar, who had a doctorate in literature or his brother Vyrl, with his doctorate in agriculture. Their sister Soz had been top of her class at the military academy. People called his aunt Dehya the fair-haired genius despite her black hair; apparently "fair-haired" meant she was favored, in this case with her mathematical brilliance. Whatever genes they had all inherited had skipped him. Compared to the rest of his family, he was an utter idiot.
"Del." Randall was watching him. "What's wrong?"
Del struggled to focus. "My brain's all twisted in knots."
"Do your virt thing," Randall said. "It loosens you up."
"You want a bliss-virt?" Casper asked Del. He tilted his head at Randall. "I got him one, and he says no."
Randall scowled at Casper. "Del doesn't need that shit."
Del couldn't believe it. Just like that, Do you want a bliss-virt? His attempts to find out more about them had all met blank walls. Now here this Casper dropped one in his lap.
Del was aware of Cameron across the room, pouring himself a drink of water, supposedly ignoring them. Del knew perfectly well the Marine could hear everything with his mech-enhanced ears. But damn it, Cameron was his bodyguard, not his warden.
"Can you really get me a bliss-node?" Del asked Casper.
"Del, I mean it," Randall said. "Now, just when things are good, don't flat-line it by scorching your brain."
"What scorching?" Casper asked. "It's just virtual reality."
Del couldn't think what to say. He knew that if Randall thought he might ruin the band's success, he would go to Mac with his concerns. Nor was Del sure what Cameron would do. The Marine didn't have the same inflexible attitude Del had found so stifling in the bodyguards the Skolian military assigned him. In his youth, as a lesser heir of the Ruby Dynasty, Del hadn't had to take guards, but that was before he died on Metropoli and spent all those years in cryo. Now in the rare instances when he went offworld, the military insisted he have a bodyguard. Given how little Del had to offer the Imperialate, he had no doubt the taciturn mammoths were supposed to protect him from himself more than from anyone else.
Even if Cameron liked him better than his past guards, he might tell Mac about the bliss-node. It wasn't Mac's damn business, but everyone and his uncle here seemed to report on Del. Like really, his life was that interesting? Surely Earth's government had better things to do than spy on their resident, royal rock singer. In truth, he suspected General McLane felt the same way. But none of them had much choice in the matter.
He spoke reluctantly to Casper. "I guess I shouldn't."
"Yeah. Sure," Casper said, his expression guarded. "Okay."
Del wondered about Casper's look. He concentrated, and with his mind so sensitized by the concert, he easily picked up what he wanted to know.
Casper would contact him later.
Del opened his eyes. He was lying on his stomach with plant stalks soft against his cheeks. Rolling onto his back, he stared at reeds swaying over him. The sky arched overhead. The lavender sky. Jud teased him about saying "lavender," claiming men never used that word. Del didn't care. What was he supposed to say? Purple? It wasn't purple. Blue clouds drifted into view. The sweet fragrance of reeds filled the air, tickling his nose. A few bubbles detached from the stalks and floated lazily across his field of view. He sighed, content. He could lie forever in Lyshriol's endless spring.
He was home.
After a while, Del sat up and looked around. Dalvador lay about a ten-minute walk away, purple-turreted roofs rising out of the swaying plain. It was wonderfully familiar, but odd, too. He didn't remember how he had come home.
"This is beautiful," a man said.
Del jerked around. Casper was standing a few paces away.
"How did you get here?" Del asked. He stopped, confused. "Uh . . . how did I get here?"
"It's the virt." Casper sat cross-legged next to him, crushing the reeds. "Filaments in the bliss-node helmet extend into your brain."
"The bliss! I forgot." Del inhaled deeply. "Everything is so real. Not slick and shallow like a commercial virt."
Casper's smile flashed. "It doesn't get better than this." He looked reassuring, solid. A friend.
"Why didn't I remember how I got here?" Del asked.
"It happens," Casper said. "Some people completely forget, it's so real."
"Then how do you get out?" Del asked.
"You don't remember that, either? We set this for an hour."
"Oh. Right." It was coming back. Del and Casper had left the concert arena together. Casper had fascinated Del, telling him about his work in the campus library, organizing academic virts. Given the trouble Del had finding a bliss-node, he doubted Casper's bliss came from any library collection. He was just glad Casper had shared it. Even more amazing, the librarian hadn't charged him. Del didn't know what a session like this normally cost, but he suspected Casper was being far more generous than he let on.
Del took his new friend to Dalvador. Each time they met someone Del knew, he introduced Casper. The Earthman bewildered everyone. The people of Dalvador acted the way Del expected, but not exactly. The virt extrapolated from his memories to create an even more realistic experience. Everyone spoke English, though, which changed their behavior and personalities slightly. But if anything made Del uncomfortable, the virt subtly altered until he liked the experience.
He didn't take Casper to meet his family. Some things were too personal to share, especially with someone he had just met.
They were walking up a blue cobblestone street when Casper said, "It's time to go."
"But we just got here," Del said.
Casper looked apologetic. "It's been almost an hour. We've only a few minutes left."
"Oh." Disappointment surged in Del, sharp and intense. "Can we make it longer?"
"Afraid not." Casper spoke awkwardly. "These sessions cost a lot. I got this one to share with Randall, like we used to at Virginia Tech. But I could only afford an hour."
"I'll pay you back," Del said.
"Hey, don't sweat it." Casper's smile was engaging. "I hadn't planned to charge Randall. But we do have to go. The helmet will deactivate in a few minutes."
"The bliss-node is in the VR helmet?"
"Not the node, just a chip made with it. The chip falls apart after you use what you paid for."
Such a waste. "Could I buy my own node?" Del asked. Then he could have this experience whenever he wanted.
Casper gave a derisive snort. "Maybe you can. The likes of me could never afford it."
Del knew he shouldn't ask. But it came out anyway. "How much?"
"A few hundred kay. The helmets are about four."
Del was sure he must have misheard. "You mean a few hundred thousand renormalized dollars?" As far as Del could tell, people called them "renormalized" dollars because sometime in the past, the dollar had become worth so little that the government had decided to redefine it. Ten renormalized dollars was the same amount as what used to be thousands of dollars.
"Yeah, that's right," Casper said. "Three hundred thousand for a cheap bliss-node. Half a million if you want top quality." He spoke dryly. "Not what most of us have lying around."
No kidding. Prime-Nova had loaned Del ten thousand dollars, but it had to cover his expenses until he found another source of income. Although Prime-Nova paid royalties twice a year, Del hadn't "earned out" his advance. Apparently that meant Prime-Nova ha
d given him more money up front than he had yet made on his vid and virt. Until his earnings exceeded what they had paid him and his other multitude of expenses, he wouldn't see another dollar. If "Diamond Star" continued to do well, he might earn something the next pay period, but it wouldn't be much, besides which, it was several months until then.
"That's too much for me," Del said.
Casper smiled ruefully. "I always thought you rock stars were rich."
Del gave a startled laugh. "I'm no star." An idea tugged at him. He tried ignoring it, but it wouldn't go away. He had his dynastic accounts. He had been twenty-one when he went into cryo, so his assets had collected interest for decades. When he had first come out, he had been too sick to care about money. It had taken years before he recovered enough to resume a normal life. But he had control over his accounts now, and he could access them since Earth's military had stopped blocking him. Half a million wouldn't even dent his assets. If he touched that money, he would go back on his promise to himself to make his own living, but the thought of having this experience any time he wished was too tempting.
"Suppose I could buy a node?" Del said. "How would I do it?"
Casper's eyes took on a glint. "Maybe I can help you."
XIII: Sea of Light
The week after its debut, Diamond Star rose to number fifteen on the holo-rock chart. In week three, it hit seven in holo-rock and debuted at thirty-seven on the Continental Hundred. In its fourth week, it rose to number two in holo-rock and twenty-nine on the continental chart. That same week, Mind Mix's "Time to Sing" hit number one on both the continental and holo-rock charts, continuing their undisputed reign as the kings of rock. In its fifth week, "Diamond Star" stayed mired at number two in holo-rock, plagued with the bad luck of having its greatest movement at the same time as a single from Prime-Nova's superstars.
In week seven, "Diamond Star" dethroned Mind Mix on both charts and became the most popular song on the North American continent.
"He has to be here," Ricki shouted cheerfully, trying to make herself heard above the loud music in the crowded hotel room.
"I saw him a few minutes ago," Mac shouted back. Glistening people swirled about them, talking, drinking, dancing to Del's music. "I'll go find him."
Her smile flashed. "I'll be at the bar. Don't be long!"
He waved and didn't try to answer. It was too noisy. He didn't know where Del had vanished to, but Mac doubted he had left. The party was for him, after all.
After ten minutes, Mac still hadn't found him. Anne Moore was enthroned on the couch, signing vids for The Jewels Suite. Jud and Bonnie were slow dancing despite the music's jazzy beat. Randall was holding court, talking to a cluster of musicians, including several prominent stringers. They were all having a great time. So where was Del?
Mac slipped out the glass doors of the suite. A swimming pool lay to his left, and marble benches curved around the patio. Beyond them, trees extended for over an acre. He entered the woods, following a crystal-flecked path. Moonlight sifted through the trees, giving the night a burnished quality, as if it were edged in silver. He came to another marble bench, this one back in the trees, almost hidden from the path. A man and a woman sat there, embracing. Mac quickly moved on.
It was ten minutes before Mac found another bench. A man sat there, leaning against a tree, staring into space.
"Hello," Mac said.
Del looked up with a jerk. "Oh!" He rubbed his palm over his cheek, so clearly smearing away tears that Mac's heart lurched.
Mac hesitated. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"Please do." Del motioned to the bench. "Have a seat."
Mac settled on the bench. "You're missing a great party. Ricki came all the way out here to Chicago to see you."
"She did?" Del's smile flashed. "That's good."
Mac spoke with care. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." Del gave a shaky laugh. "It's just a lot, you know."
"You've earned it." That was putting it mildly, given the way Del had persevered with his music for his entire life despite nothing but negative feedback.
"It's so hard to believe," Del said. "Maybe I'm not a failure after all."
"You never were," Mac said gently.
Del's eyes gleamed in the moonlight. "Zachary commed me this morning. Prime-Nova is releasing The Jewels Suite worldwide. And did you see? Staver Aunchild is here! He wants to sell The Jewels Suite to Skolians." Del rubbed his palm over his eyes. "My father liked "Sapphire Clouds." He tried to like the others. I think he understood about my music, even if he didn't understand the songs. He knew I had to do it. He felt that way about his."
"You must miss him."
"Always." Del leaned back and gazed into the trees. "I guess I should tell my family. But what if they want me to stop?" He gave Mac a rueful glance. "I don't know why they would. I mean, I'm not far up any line of succession, and I'm no use for powering the Kyle-mesh. After all that time in cryo, it would kill me to use my mind that way. But if they want me home, it would be hard to say no."
"Would they force you?" Mac asked.
Del thought about it. "I'd like to think not. But I don't know." He smiled at Mac, a simple smile with no mischief, wicked glints, or surly undertones. Just a man who had received a gift he never expected. "Even if it ends tomorrow, Mac, this is one of the best things that ever happened to me."
Mac grinned. "Then come back and celebrate."
Together, they walked back to the hotel.
"Are you sure?" Mac said into his wrist comm. The van shook as they hovered over some bump in the road. "Can you talk louder? I can't hear you."
Del shifted around, unable to sit still. They were all gathered in the circular seat at the back of the van, except for Cameron and Randall, who were in seats up front. The van whirred on through the bright day, headed for the Sports Fields outside of Chicago.
"You must have another way!" Mac was saying. "What? No, this wasn't one of our tour stops. We were only asked yesterday to play the festival. We don't have any prep here."
Del glanced at Jud. "You have any idea what's wrong?"
Jud shook his head, his beaded dreadlocks clacking on his shoulders. "No clue."
"That isn't acceptable," Mac was saying. "Don't you have a pass-coded parking lot behind the stage?"
"For flipping sakes," Anne said. "He's mad about not having a parking space. He hates that."
Del tried to relax. Bad parking they could handle. The festival organizers had invited them at the last minute and agreed to pay a big fee for the request. It wouldn't surprise him if they had a mix-up, but he hoped not, because he wanted this show. The outdoor festival had over twenty of the biggest bands in holo-rock, including Jenny Summerland, the Conquistadors, and of course Mind Mix. Del hadn't performed in a show like this since his Philadelphia disaster. He wanted to prove he could do a good job.
Mac swore under his breath. Then he said, "What? Yeah. A guy named Cameron. Just one. You'll need to provide more."
Del glanced at Cameron, who was listening intently. "Do you know what they're talking about?"
"Security, probably," Cameron said. "Mac doesn't need me to park."
"Damn it," Mac said. "How could we plan for it? We were invited yesterday. I want two. Otherwise Del Arden doesn't play. Got that?"
"Wait a minute!" Del said. "Don't say—"
Mac shook his head, motioning Del to silence. Into his comm, he said, "Yes, that'll work. Behind the stage. Twenty minutes. Okay. Good."
As Mac switched off his comm, Del said, "Don't tell them I won't sing!"
"They don't have a secured lot for the van," Mac said.
Randall glared at him. "You need two parking pads?"
"Ah, hell," Jud said. "Not parking. He means the gauntlet."
Randall's attention perked up. "We're going to run the gauntlet? Cool."
"What gauntlet?" Del asked, bewildered.
Mac spoke quietly. "The audience is at six hundred thousand, twice what
they expected."
"So?" Del said. "That's good."
Mac regarded him with a strange expression, as if he saw an avalanche poised over their heads. "It's a rowdy audience. It overflowed their security lines. You have to go onstage without a secured area."
"In other words, you have to mix with the crowd," Jud said.
Del shrugged. "So what? I don't need special treatment."
"Del's right." Randall's laugh rumbled. "Come on, guys. It'll be fun. We can sign autographs."
Mac gave him a dour look. "Before or after you get trampled?"
"Oh, come on," Randall said. "I've seen plenty of guys go on stage through the audience. So what? People yell and wave and ask you to sign vids. Big fucking deal."
Del finally understood. Mac didn't want a Skolian prince vulnerable in a crowd. He spoke gently. "Don't worry, okay? Remember when I told you about the cryogenics, and I said I wanted to make my own choices? I meant it, Mac. I'll be fine. If I get roughed up a bit, it's okay."
"I hate it," Mac said. "Any time someone touches you."
"Holy shit," Randall said. "You guys are, like, lovers?"
"For crying out loud." Del's face burned. "No, we are not 'like, lovers.' He's worried about my safety, that's all."
"Father figure," Anne decided, studying Mac. "You're afraid to see Del hurt because he's like a son to you."
"Something like that," Mac said, looking awkward.
"What did you mean about cryogenics?" Bonnie asked Del.
Del wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "It's nothing."
"It's obviously something," Randall said.
Jud scowled at him. "And he obviously doesn't want to talk about it."
Anne spoke to Mac. "We'll be fine. It's no big deal."
Mac tried to smile. "Yeah. Sure. You have Cameron. And they're sending two of their security guys, just in case."
"So you see," Del said. "No need to worry."
"We can't get closer!" Mac said into his comm. Sweat covered his forehead despite the air-conditioned van.
They were stopped hundreds of yards from the pavilion where they were supposed to meet the two guards. Beyond the tent, the huge stage of the Chicago Sports Fields dominated the view. People flooded the area, and gleaming orbs rotated above the crowd, broadcasting music from the stage. No one in the unrepentant throng paid any attention to the vehicles mired among them. Security bots were keeping the crowds in check, but they didn't make anyone move. Given the unexpected size of the crowd, Del suspected the concert organizers wanted to avoid getting people angry or violent. He knew nothing about putting together festivals, but it seemed like lousy planning to him.