Read Online Sky Tongues by Gina Ranalli - Free Book Online

supplies. Which all means that they have very few Mues among them. In fact, many of the children I worked with were seeing Mues for the first time and while some were quite intrigued, others were terrified.
   Rabia was an exception. Although she was a Uni Mue and hadn’t worked with these particular children, she spoke their language fluently and just had a way about her that made them trust her and eventually fall in love with her.
   Of course, they weren’t the only ones enamored of her. I myself wanted her from the moment I saw her.

40

   We actually met before filming even began. She was assigned to help me understand my character and the children I’d be working with, as well as speak the language at least passably, which technically just meant being able to say my lines with believability. But learning a few things beyond the script would be good as well. Being able to communicate with the children off-set would be very important as well, since it would bring depth to not only my performance, but theirs as well.
   So, one day I was in my hotel room talking to Franz on the phone when there was a rap at my door. Without pausing in the conversation, I went, peeked out the peep hole and then opened the door a crack.
   “I’m Rabia Jacobs,” she said. “I guess I’m your technical advisor.”
    I nodded, smiling and let her in, giving her the “one moment” signal by holding up my index tongue, then motioning for her to have a seat and make herself comfortable.
   Franz chattered on in my ear, talking nonstop about another part he thought I’d be perfect for. I was only half-listening. Nowadays, Franz thought I’d be perfect for every part that slid across his desk or even those he’d just heard rumors about.
   I held the phone away from my ear and whispered to Rabia that she should help herself to anything on the dining cart; the fresh fruit was especially delicious. She only nodded, looking rather uncomfortable.
    Finally, I told Franz I had to go and, ignoring his protests, hung up on him.
   I stood, head cocked, studying Rabia. “You must be a Uni.”
   She nodded, smiling nervously. “How can you tell?”
   In fact, it was quite easy to tell. Her skin was completely transparent. It was as if she were made of a clear gel: you could see inside her body. Her teeth, the tongue behind her teeth, her brain, her veins, everything. The bones in her hands. She looked like a medical students model come to life.
   Naturally, I couldn’t see everything . She was wearing clothes after all, but I knew that were she to undress, I would see everything. Every little organ, every sinew, every bone. I had never realized until that point how inconsequential the muscles of the body really are. They obstruct the views of some things inside but certainly not all. They are there, but only as doors or walls, you can peek around them, see what’s behind them if the angle is right.
   “Staring is rude,” Rabia said, startling me out of my thoughts.
   I blinked. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I can’t believe I was doing that.”
   She held up the script she’d been holding. “Do you want to get started?”
   “Yes,” I gave her my best smile. “Absolutely.”

41

   After about 90 minutes of talking shop with her, I was ready for a break. I stood, stretched, and walked over to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony. It was still morning, not quite 11:00, and a gorgeous day. The hotel was on a more populated island than the one where the actual shooting would take place and my room looked out over a bay and beyond that were bright green hills with large white houses speckled throughout the landscape.
   The view was beautiful and made me long to be out in the sun, exploring the island, shopping, going for a drive. Anything.
   I turned around, facing Rabia again. “Do you want to take a break? It’s such a beautiful