The Black Stars by Dan Krokos Read Free Book Online

the last time anyone speaks your language here.”
    Mason never saw the implant, but he felt the Tremist probing the base of his skull. “There is a two percent chance you will reject the implant and die immediately.”
    Mason was about to protest, but something punched him in the back of his head, and then a cool liquid sensation spread throughout his brain. It was a different feeling than when he downloaded the history of the People on Nori-Blue. He’d unpacked that knowledge while he was unconscious aboard the Egypt, and now it was always waiting in his head, a part of him. He didn’t have to study it. As part of his mission to spread the truth, he’d shared his knowledge with hundreds of ESC, and the king had done the same with his people. Scribes on both sides were re-creating the book from memory, and soon everyone would be able to read the history.
    The sensation faded to nothing, and he could actually feel the knowledge, a new weight in his brain. He thought of the Tremist word for “sky” and realized there were many different languages on Skars. Not just different dialects, but different languages entirely.
    â€œImplant successful.” The technician spoke now in the Tremist tongue.
    â€œWhoa whoa whoa,” Tom said, holding up his hands. “What did he say? About dying? Could you understand him just now?”
    The technician held a cylinder to the back of Tom’s head, and then Tom flinched, blinking rapidly.
    â€œCongratulations,” the technician said. “You have survived.”
    â€œThank you.” Mason used the Tremist dialect preferred by the school (which he also inherently knew; the dialect was called Mhenlo dai Cross, which roughly meant “People of the Fields”). Mason had to stop and think about it to realize the words for “thank you” came out sounding like pelly vos. That’s how natural the language now felt. What Mason really wanted to say was: Don’t ever operate on us again without our consent, but he didn’t.
    â€œThere are two chickens in the garden,” Tom said in the correct dialect. He caught Mason’s eye. “What? Just testing it out.”
    â€œIf you’re quite finished,” the technician said, “you’re late for the address.” He held two folded sets of clothes in each hand. Mason took his and unfolded them. There were simple fitted pants, an undershirt, and a jacket that buttoned up the front, with a high collar and a long, rounded tail in the back. It was almost a robe but not quite. All of it was gray, he noted, not purple and not red. His gray boots were softer than his ESC boots and ended mid-shin.
    â€œWhat address?” Mason said, putting on his new uniform. I need to find my boots.
    The technician was blank-faced for a moment, and then his upper lip peeled back in the loose translation of a grin. “All students must choose on their first nights.”
    â€œChoose what?” Tom asked.
    But Mason already knew. Four Rhadgast had brought them here, two purple and two red. The dome itself showed them the divide between the Rhadgast. Mason had no idea what the divide meant, but clearly one existed.
    â€œBetween Blood and Stone,” the technician said.

 
    Chapter Eight
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    Mason and Tom were told to follow a line on the floor. The line was yellow, and it pulsed as they moved along, fading behind them and growing in front of them. It showed them the way to the Inner Chamber, which was located in the exact middle of the sphere. It was there the rhadjen met once a week to discuss the current state of the school.
    Mason kept opening and closing his hands, missing the comfortable snugness of his gloves, the protection they provided. His skin felt fragile without them.
    Tom was just as jittery as they walked. “I don’t feel prepared for this. At all.”
    â€œWe can speak all the Tremist languages, so that should help,” Mason said, though