Chorus
Chapter Four
Note: This has been a busy week but I'm more or less back on track, thank goodness. I'm hoping to set up a blog soon to archive all of my writing in one place, along with any fanart I've received and anything else I've done over the last few years. When I started writing fanfics back in prehistoric times everyone had archives, webrings and mailing lists and I'm an old fashioned girl at heart sometimes. I'll link it once it's finished.
Double note: If you haven't already, I suggest you read A String of Pearls before continuing. Most of the OC characters I've written about there will be popping up here as well (and it includes the origins of Murder Pearl.)
…..
New to the list of things Steven had to be very worried about (along with Pearl's disappearance, the awful nightmares that were probably foreshadowing of something unpleasant and his dwindling supply of food) was that the unfortunately-named Murder Pearl would live up to that name at some point by turning on him.
As it was, she had found some sort of pole somewhere in the workshop and was methodically sharpening the end with blankly serene expression on her face. It was unbelievably creepy, and yet Ginger, who was sitting directly in the line of the sharpened pole should Murder Pearl decide to skewer someone with it, was calmly ignoring them both to fiddle with a holographic screen of data.
Complicating matters further was the third pearl in the workshop, the one Steven had healed with his magical spit. She was hiding under a table covered with a tarp, (and had been since she regained consciousness) the edges of her feet were the only part of her visible. He had been told in no uncertain terms by both Orthoclase and Ginger to leave her alone until her Jasper returned. He could hear her sniffling under there, and that was awkward on top of all the other awkwardness.
Distantly, Steven wondered if Garnet and Amethyst were worried. He had been gone for, he estimated, three days. They had left him alone during missions for longer periods of time, they had always been quite lackadaisical in this manner. He knew Greg would be worried by now, and probably Connie too. Sadie as well, and maybe the cool kids.
Maybe I should go back for a little while. Get more food, let everyone know I'm okay, tell them we have a plan...
Even as he thought about it he knew he couldn't. He was neck-deep in Homeworld's criminal underground, and if television had taught him one thing it was that criminals tended to disappear without a trace. If he left he probably wouldn't be able to find them again.
As he stewed, his stomach made its feelings known. Loudly.
Ginger swiveled in her chair.
"Are you unwell?" she asked, again with more curiosity than concern.
"Hah, no...I'm just kind of hungry..." he laughed nervously. Murder Pearl was also looking at him.
"Hungry?" Ginger asked, tilting her head and blinking owlishly.
"Yeah, uh...where I come from, we put things in our mouths..."
...he didn't miss both of the pearls flinching ever so slightly...
"...to give us energy and make us feel...happy, I guess. I brought food but I'm running kind of low now," he finished.
Ginger hummed thoughtfully, and Murder Pearl laid down her murder stick for a moment.
"The higher caste gems ingest gallium and compound mix for recreational purposes," Murder Pearl said. "I don't think it gives them energy..."
"No, it doesn't," Ginger agreed. "But those are chemical...it sounds like the Steven requires...organic matter?"
"Just Steven is fine," Steven piped in.
"I will think on this," Ginger told him. "We cannot have you unwell at this stage in the plan."
"Wow, okay, thanks!" Steven blurted out gratefully. It probably wouldn't be anything like a donut or a cheeseburger but at least it would be something...
Orthoclase burst into the workshop then in her usual loud fashion. At some point she had donned some sort of chain-link head decoration and painted triangles under her eyes, and the little kid in Steven for a moment reflected on how effortlessly cool she was. She was carrying what looked like a burlap sack and tossed out the contents on the operating table.
"Jasper came through for us," she said with a careless but triumphant shrug. "Six pearls, all deregistered."
Steven peered over at them, until Orthoclase beckoned him closer so he could examine them closely. One was cracked badly, one was covered in scratches but apart from that they were all in good shape. One was significantly smaller than the others.
"That's a seed pearl," Orthoclase explained as Steven gingerly touched the miniature one.
"Seed pearl?"
"Yeah, it was the fashion for a while to make them smaller," she continued. "Lasted about four orbits before they were discontinued. I thought they'd all been processed but I guess not."
Homeworld really was a terribly strange place. Gems talked about making other gems in miniature, like some sort of weird hobby.
"Those two are damaged," Steven said, changing the subject. "Can I heal them?"
"Go ahead," Orthoclase said with a sweeping gesture. "Less work for me if you do."
Licking his palm, he fixed the cracked pearl and then the scratched one. For good measure, he fixed the others too, just in case they had damage he couldn't see.
"Remind me to get you filling some tubes for me before you go back to Planet Whatsit," Orthoclase said, sinking onto the couch and throwing one foot into Ginger's lap.
…..
A few hours and one fitful nap on the couch later, the pearls regenerated.
Steven ended up naming them (in his head) after the Disney Princesses because that was all he could think of. One of them (he thought it was the one that had been scratched to pieces) had a long elaborate braid that reached her ankles so once he had dubbed her Rapunzel the rest of them naturally followed.
The one that looked like she had actual gold threads running through her hair: Aurora.
The pale blue one in tattered indigo and the remains of a fancy hairstyle: Cinderella, obviously.
The silver one with the long white hair: Elsa. She was the one who had been badly cracked.
The pale green one with the red hair...he kept switching between Anna and Ariel. It was hard to know until she opened her mouth.
And the seed pearl, who stood no taller than Steven's waist...Thumbelina. (He knew it wasn't Disney but it might as well have been.)
"I assume you all know the plan," Orthoclase announced, confusing Steven because not one pearl had said a word to anyone.
Still, they all nodded in perfect unison. Even Murder Pearl.
"Great. If you have any questions, ask Pearl. In fact, I have a question right now. What in Core's name are we supposed to do now?"
She punctuated her question by poking Ginger's shoulder with the tip of her foot.
"I have located a loom to centre our structure on," Ginger replied, barely responding to Orthoclase's needling. "It is isolated, and large enough to shelter over fifty pearls."
"Sounds great," Orthoclase drawled. "What's wrong with it?"
"The owner will take some convincing..."
"I knew it..."
"But I believe we have something she wants."
"Hm," Orthoclase mused. "Okay, we can work with that. Get her on the line..."
"She won't respond. We have to go there ourselves. And she may not let us in."
Orthoclase sighed, flopped across the couch. All the pearls kept their silence, but Steven noticed their hands and fingers moving gently. Maybe they were nervous. Steven certainly was.
"Well, we might as well try," she said at last. "We'll go next cycle, suns are going down."
With that, she was gone. There were crashing sounds in the back of the workshop where she was clearly setting up to work for the rest of the night. That left Steven alone with the pearls.
"So," he began, addressing the one he dubbed Elsa. "I'm glad to see I was able to fix that crack in your gem...are you feeling better?"
"Yes, quite," she said faintly. "Thank you."
"What happened? Is it okay for me to ask, I don't mean to be rude..."
"That's okay," she said in that same oddly serene way they all seemed to have of talking. "I was owned by several Jaspers, they did not treat me gently."
That sick squirmy feeling was getting to be something Steven was used to. There were implications rife in that little sentence but he couldn't dwell on it, for the sake of his own sanity.
I need to find Pearl and get the hell out of here.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled lamely.
"Not your doing," Elsa replied in a way that was almost sweet.
"Did you fix my scratches too?" Rapunzel asked, so quietly he could barely hear her.
"Yes, I did," Steven replied. "Is that okay with you?"
"Quite," she said. "But my owner may be confused when I am returned. If I am returned."
If. Why if?
"Why's that?" Steven asked, knowing he was going to regret it but unable to stop himself.
"She made most of the scratches."
Steven looked away, struggling to find words. It was only then that he noticed that Thumbelina had at some point climbed down from her spot on the operating table and was kneeling at the gap between the floor and the tarp that covered the Jasper's pearl. She was silent but her fingers were moving. The sniffling that had been a constant since the pearl woke up had stopped.
…..
When Homeworld's suns rose again, they set out for...wherever they were going next. Steven ate the last of his rations, hoping Ginger would come up with something for him to do foodwise soon. They passed a checkpoint, and as usual Ginger was checked with that horrible machine.
"Why can't they just ask her to open her mouth?" Steven whispered to Orthoclase as they watched.
"Pearls won't open their mouths, even under orders," Orthoclase whispered back.
Steven blinked. He hadn't really expected an answer, just assumed the officials did it to be mean.
"Why?" he asked, baffled.
"No-one really knows," Orthoclase responded. "It's just some sort of pearl-wide trait, they can't do it even if they want to. It means you have to crack their jaws for checks and certain repairs, and they'd probably choose to avoid that if they could..."
With every passing moment, life just seemed to get bleaker and bleaker for pearls. Where would it end?
Ginger was rubbing her jaw when she was returned.
"I think that Topaz has a grudge against me," Orthoclase said as they walked away. "And she takes it out on you. Sorry about that."
"That's okay," Ginger replied. She sounded tired.
They walked for a long time. The public transport system only brought them so far, and it was clear whoever they were going to see was well-off. The residences they passed got bigger and bigger the further they went, until they arrived at a truly enormous estate on the outer edge of the city.
Orthoclase whistled as she rang the doorbell.
"This is really something," she hissed. "I feel like I'm going to be tossed in isopod just for being here..."
The door creaked open, and standing in front of them was yet another pearl.
"My owner is not taking visitors today."
"Yeah, we figured that," Orthoclase drawled. "But we have an urgent matter to discuss with her so we aren't going to let her blow us off."
"Just close the blasted door, Pearl!" a voice shouted from inside the estate.
"I suggest you give her different orders unless you want me to yank her right here and now," Orthoclase called back.
There was a moment of silence, during which Steven didn't know where to look. He hadn't expected Orthoclase to make outright threats...
...and then a sharp tapping noise heralded the arrival of another gem, who gently pushed the pearl out of the way. Steven looked up...
Lapis?
...no, it's not.
This gem looked much older, far more severe than Lapis even at her angriest. It put Steven in mind of the dowager queen of some exiled nation, or something. She was dressed in what looked like an evening gown, long and straight, and her hair was pinned back immaculately in a perfectly formed bun.
The pearl looked almost like a daughter or a younger sister of this dowager. She was dressed in a shorter dress with a fuller skirt, her hair simply tied back with a green ribbon.
Neither of them looked like the kind of gem Orthoclase would ever associate with.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the Amethyst squad," the Lapis growled, squaring up to this gem who could easily break her in half.
"Well, Pearl? Have you got a good reason for her?" Orthoclase asked Ginger.
"Yes."
The Lapis turned to Ginger, confusion masking her annoyance.
"We have need of your pearl's skills," Ginger began.
Incredibly, the Lapis' face softened. She looked from Ginger to her own pearl and back.
"In return, we can offer you music that has never been heard by any gem before," Ginger finished.
Orthoclase shot a look down at Steven, a what-the-hell-kind-of-plan-is-this sort of look.
But the Lapis sighed, straightened and opened her door fully.
"You'd best come inside then," she said. "Don't touch anything."
