Read Online Sound by Alexandra Duncan - Free Book Online

invite?”
    â€œIs that what you’re wearing?” Madlenka nods at the dress uniform still dangling in my hand.
    â€œY . . . yes?”
    Madlenka shakes her head. “You have to dress up more than that.”
    Jyotsana agrees. “This is mid-tier , Miyole. This is your chance. You have to make them notice you.”
    My stomach flutters. “I . . . I don’t know if I want that.” I just want everyone to leave me alone and let me figure out what’s wrong with the pollinators. If they notice me, I want it to be for my work, not my outfit.
    â€œOf course you do.” Madlenka pulls her hair back, all business. “These are the first officers. Make a good impression, and they can get you any assignment you want.”
    She’s right; this is my way to my own lab, my own experiments. No more Dr. Osmani. All of us who signed on as research assistants know the way it works. On the outbound journey, all that matters is preparing for theterraforming drops, but on the way back, some of us will get the chance to take over the unused labs, run our own experiments. And the first officers are the ones who choose.
    â€œDon’t worry.” Lian takes my arm. “We’ll help you.”
    Jyotsana has already opened my locker and pushed my uniforms aside to look at the clothes I brought from home.
    â€œOoh.” She pulls out a gold- and red-stamped sari with a startlingly blue choli and skirt to wear underneath.
    â€œNo way.” The choli shows my arms and stops at the bottom of my rib cage, leaving most of my stomach bare, which is exactly what you want on a humid Mumbai afternoon, but not at an officers’ dinner. Our prep instructions for the Ranganathan told us we could bring one item of civilian formal wear, but the moment I stepped on board and saw everyone in their long sleeves and high collars, I stuffed my sari at the back of my locker.
    â€œBut it’s so pretty.” Jyotsana holds the outfit up to me. “You look way better in bright colors anyway.”
    Madlenka nods. “And a lot of the first officers are from India, so it can’t hurt to let them know you are, too.”
    I make a face. “I don’t know. Isn’t that kind of . . . what’s the word? Nepotism? Favoritism?”
    Madlenka rolls her eyes and shrugs. “It’s called ‘how the world works.’”
    Jyotsana laughs. “You’re so serious, Miyole.”
    â€œHere.” Lian takes the sari and drapes it over the shoulder of my dress uniform. “What if you wear it over your blues like this?”
    â€œI . . . I guess.” Something about the uniform makes the gold cloth slightly more sober and elegant.
    â€œExcellent!” Jyotsana claps her hands. “Put it on! Put it on!”
    I change into my blues and let Jyotsana help me drape the sari, while Lian attacks my hair with her expert fingers. If I close my eyes, I’m back in the Gyre, my mother gently tugging my hair into braids. Another regret—forgetting how to replicate the intricate styles she did for us both on Seventh Market days. Soraya and Ava both tried to fix it the way I described, but their own hair was so different from my own. It was never the same.
    Giggling bubbles up around me. I open my eyes. Madlenka is coming after me with her lipstick.
    â€œOh, no.” I lean back, pulling out the neat tuck Jyotsana has just finished at my waist and making Lian yank my hair.
    Madlenka sighs and raises her eyes to the ceiling. “Will you trust us? God, you’re exactly like my fifteen-year-old cousin. You’d think you’d never gone to a dinner before.”
    I shut my mouth and let Madlenka go to work. That’sfar closer to home than I want anyone to know.
    When they’re finished, they push me in front of the door mirror. I stop short, disoriented. The girl staring back looks nothing like me. The sari gives me hips I never have in my regular uniform, and