her piano and looked past the
ebony wood into the darkness of
the concert hall. The glow from the
stage just picked out the front row.
Ragnhildur sat, with her elbows on
her knees, leaning toward the light
of the stage. It was her music they
played tonight, but she wasn’t up
here. She had to trust Sóldís and
the orchestra and Inez.
That... that was who she was
playing for tonight.
Inez poised her hands over the
keyboard, thumbs of her left hand
spread to play that first gust of
wind. She looked up to meet her
conductor’s eyes and nodded that
she was ready. The tempo counted
in and her right hand let rain fall.
#
Flushed, trembling after an
encore – an encore! – Inez closed
the door of her dressing room
and leaned against it. The music
was still filling her bloodstream
and pounding through the small
bones in her wrists. They hadn’t
planned for an encore, but the
audience had kept applauding
Ragnhildur’s work. That last
movement, played again,
with Ragnhildur on stage,
surrounded by the music and
carried into the light of the Ljós
movement, which went from
sunrise to the shifting eddies
of the Northern Lights.
She wanted to play it again.
Right now. Exhausted andexhilarated, she wanted to
play it again.
On the dressing table, her
wrist phone rang. Even from
here, she could see her parents’
photo on the screen. She closed
her eyes. They called after every
performance. Letting out a
breath, she opened her eyes and
crossed the room. Swiping the
phone, she sent the call onto
the dressing room’s wall screen.
“Hi Mom and Dad. Sorry that
I haven’t... Sorry.”
They were beaming at the
camera. Her mother leaned in
close. “No, I’m sorry. We should
have been there for you but, well...
we weren’t sure you wanted us.”
“But we watched the stream!”
Her dad pointed at the camera but
probably meant their wall screen.
“We’re so, so proud of you.”
“Six curtain calls! And an
encore!” Her mother clapped her
hands together and held them
in front of her face in an almost
prayer. “You were just... just
splendid tonight.”
Her chest filled as the last
remnants of distress ebbed away.
“Thanks!” They should have been
here. “I’m sorry that I kept missing
your calls. The time zones and
rehearsal schedules...”
Her dad waved away her lies.
“You needed to concentrate. I get
it.” He tilted his head to the side
and cleared his throat. “So... do youhave to keep wearing them?”
The warmth in her chest went
cold. She opened her mouth to
say that they had performances
on the next three weekends. And
also... she’d had the thumbs off
to take showers. The five minutes
it would take to have this call
with her parents would be less
time that that.
“Sure. I can take them off.”
She used her right thumbs to
undo the strap on the left but
getting the other one off wasweird and clumsy. “So. There’s
apparently a deal with Icelandair.
Do you want to come out for one
of the other weekends?”
“Oh, that would be lovely. If we
won’t be in the way.”
She shook her head, rubbing the
bare spot where the thumb should
be. “We can do the Golden Circle.”
But she would have the thumbs
on. “Or maybe when we’re done
with this run? Then I won’t have
anything to pull me away.”
“Fantastic!” Her dad seemed
to understand what she wasn’t
saying. That she would have the
thumbs on for most of their visit.“ The music was still
filling her bloodstream
and pounding through
the small bones in
her wrists”“That’s even better.”
“Well, you go on now. I’m sure
there are people who want to talk
to you. We just wanted you to
know that we were proud. Even
if–” Her mother checked herself.
“We were proud of you.”
Her heart was full and heavy
with a sort of yearning to be
with her parents and a relief that
they were not, in fact, here. Not
yet. But when she applied for
citizenship, this performance
tonight would help.
When she got off the call, Inez
rested her hands on the piano
in her dressing room. The keys
felt unfamiliar and her hand
placement was weird and off. She
rolled up an arpeggio and it was
okay not having the left thumb,
but the right... it felt like a note was
missing. As if she had to stretch
in ways that she should not.
Which was exactly what her
parents had warned her about.
They were right. She had
rewired her brain. Playing the
piano now without the thumbs
would feel like a loss.
Someone rapped on her door.
She wiped her eyes – not because
she was actually crying but just
that she was over-emotional after
the performance. “Come in?”
Ragnhildur stuck her head
around the door. “Hello favorite
person! Sóldís is taking us out to
celebrate. With the benefactors.”
A tendril of her blonde hair had
escaped its bun. “You are coming.
Yes? There is talk of The Future
which, I am not certain what it
means, exactly, but I am certain
that the immediate future
involves very good cocktails
at a very good club.”
“Absolutely. Just give me
a minute to grab my things.”
She grinned at the other woman.
“Very good cocktails sounds like
exactly the thing.”
“Just don’t spill it!”
“Ha!” She turned to the dressing
table and picked up one of the
thumbs. “I won’t.”
Inez put her thumbs back
where they should be and went
to find out what the future held
in its twelve-fingered hands. ❚Views A sci-fi short story
42 | New Scientist | 18/25 December 2021JOO
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