Bowing her head against the rough wind as strands of her dark hair whipped about her face, Hadley held tight to her jacket collar and walked the path outside the fence. Sheâd already passed two gates into the sprawling south-east quadrant but there was something about the sudden arrival, and the smell of the wind, that kept her from entering the safety of the city. Window shutters rattled as sand-grass dust battered against the houses outside the city fence. It was too early for the southern winds, which should have come around November.
Nothing but crop fields and farm cottages lay south for a good hundred miles and yet the air carried the scent of fuel and corn popped over a fire. Another smell lingered between the two. It wasnât as pungent as the fuel or as sweet as the corn but it was entirely intoxicating. Hadley took another deep sniff. Whatever the smell was, she knew no coalition ship had brought it with them to the docking station.
She stopped at a dilapidated blue house. Paint flaked from the brittle wood and danced up into the air in the sweet wind. It would be another year before replacement paint was available but no one in the south-east quadrant was hopeful that theyâd be fortunate enough to get their hands on some. Hadley hesitated, chewing on her lip. She wanted to continue south and find out if she was right that something had brought the wind, but she was near the last entrance. She couldnât risk not being back before the gates locked. Not again.
With a sigh, Hadley turned away.
She pulled her pass from her pocket. Flashing the plastic and metal disk at the scanner, she pushed open the heavy metal gate. It clanged against the fence behind her, the rattle rippling out along the chain link. Out of habit she grasped the mesh and tugged to ensure it was locked. Sheâd never hear the end of it if she let someone into the quadrant who wasnât supposed to be there.
âEarly today, arenât we?â
Kalvin popped his head out from the guard post with the warm smile that she rarely saw him without. His black freckles scrunched across his nose and cheeks. If it was possible, the long summer had brought out even more across his dark skin.
âFinished for the day.â
âLucky. I got at least another quart,â he grumbled.
âQuart?â Hadley asked and checked her watch. âThe gateâs locked in two hours. What do you do for another four?â
Kalvin shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, resting his shoulder against the doorframe.
âAsk your brother. Orders came down through him. Everyoneâs picking up extra hours.â
âLachlan doesnât have the authority for that,â she insisted. Stepping towards him, she flicked the open collar of his shirt with her thumb. âHe does have the authority to slam you for this, though. What a poor excuse for a uniform.â
He chuckled and batted her hand away.
âYou went into the wrong job, Miss Tack. Should have followed in his footsteps. You could have been dressing an army.â
Hadley peered at the oil stains on her knees, the grime underneath her fingernails, and the dust caked onto her boots. She scratched her messy hair and grinned.
âIâd much rather fix engines than armies.â
After she gave him a brief wave, Kalvin disappeared back into the guard post. Hadley continued down the road. Her older brother was scheduled to finish on the shift change, but if they were extending the guard shifts then no doubt Lachlan would work late as well. He wasnât the type to let others do the work for him, not like the captains in the central who handed out the orders but were still home in time for dinner. So, instead of heading towards their home, she continued straight into the centre of the quadrant.
The market was closing down as she entered the square, each merchant moving slowly in the hopes of catching that one last customer before the soldiers ushered them out of the square. Farmers packed up their unsold goods into crates. Seamstresses folded linens and swept away scraps into buckets for rags and patchworks. Mr. Hale, the baker, was closing the shutters on his store window while his daughter, Marjorie, stood behind the counter kneading the next dayâs batch. Hadley smiled and nodded, receiving a doughy- handed wave in return.
The quadrant station stood on the corner of the square. It wasnât impressive like the one in the centre of the city. She had only visited the central station once; when her brother was sworn in. That station towered over the surrounding buildings and threw everything around it into shadow. This one looked like every other building: small, functional, and in a constant state of disrepair.
âLooking for your brother?â
The greeting was thrown casually her way before sheâd even stepped over the threshold. Philip Allard, the old major, sat behind a worn desk. His litcom lay on the top, and despite multiple messages and alerts flashing up along the edge, it showed the daily newspaper. Hadley held the door until the latch clicked into place.
âIs he around?â
âOff the back, I imagine. Squirreled away,â Allard said. He barely paused before he went back to reading, the screen lighting the worn lines in his face.
Hadley wound her way through the small maze of offices and storerooms. Lachlan had been promoted to captain over a year before, which should have awarded him one of the bigger offices at the front of the station. Instead, he had given the room to the new troop of soldiers coming through, letting them use it for their break room. He liked his little office, he said. He knew where everything was. It didnât surprise her, seeing as at home he barely knew where anything was. That was her fault.
The door was open but Hadley knocked anyway. She gazed down at her brother, who didnât even look up from the litcom in front of him.
âThe scan isnât confirming but the readings are definitely off,â he mumbled.
âFascinating.â
Lachlan looked up in sharp surprise and turned the litcom over. Hadley grinned at him. At home he would let her use the litcom seeing as she didnât have a job that allowed her one of her own and they didnât have the money to buy one. Here, however, it was closely guarded as a perk of his position.
âHads, what are you doing here?â
Hadley moved further into the room and perched on the arm of a chair that was stacked high with paperwork.
âI ran into Kalvin on my way back. He said youâve been asking for extra hours.â
Lachlan groaned and rubbed his hand over his hair. It was cut short but the brown was exactly the same shade as their motherâs had been. His eyes, though tired, were the same black-rimmed dark blue as their fatherâs. He also had their fatherâs wide tipped nose and ears that seemed to have no lobe to them. Hadley, apparently, looked more like their motherâs father, or so she was told. Having never met the man, she couldnât say. It was all just a mixture of people theyâd never see again, but sheâd often looked at the old photographs of them hidden in a box in Lachlanâs closet, and knowing how those little details tied them both to their family had always comforted her.
He jabbed his thumb towards the hallway. Hadley hopped to her feet and pushed the door closed.
âThereâs a rumour of a hitching,â he said quietly. âOrders have come in for us to check it out.â
Hadley frowned and rolled her eyes.
âDonât look at me like that,â Lachlan complained. âWeâre closest and itâs my duty.â
She held her hands up and resisted rolling her eyes again. It was just like Lachlan to defend the system even if it meant hours of overtime with no pay. The central demanded that they be available for extra duties but the soldiers of the outer quadrants rarely saw anything to make up for it.
âI didnât say anything,â she said. âI was just thinking how itâs funny these things always come up on your night to cook.â
Lachlan grinned and she knew his complaints about her lack of respect for duty would be put off for another day.
âSo, a hitching, huh? Not had one of those for a while.â
When he chewed on his bottom lip Hadley could see the cracks in his flesh opening up into tabs of dried skin which would eventually split and bleed when the weather turned cold.
âYeah, about half a dozen miles south. Tracers arenât getting a proper reading on it. Itâs all coming back inconclusive.â
She frowned. Not many ships that hitched down instead of coming into a dock had the capacity to hide their existence, even temporarily. Hitchings were common in the central planets where docking prices were high and under the counter deals were two a penny. In the outlying planets though, where docking stations couldnât afford to charge high prices and the coalition enforcement rarely cared enough about illegal goods to perform searches, hitchings only occurred when people really had something to hide.
âThatâs what the wind is,â Hadley said, bringing an amused look from her brother. He nodded. âYou think itâs something big? Half a dozen miles. Must be a substantial ship to cause that kind of blow.â
Scratching behind his ear, Lachlan peered at the door and flipped the litcom over. He turned it to face Hadley, who jumped off the chair to get a better look. The screen showed a large ship, too large to hitch easily without military grade equipment. It wasnât a recognised coalition model, but she could see at least six cylinders and four compartments. Sheâd only ever heard of one type of ship that size that hitched instead of coming in for docking.
âLachâŚâ she whispered, looking up at her brother with childish excitement. âIs thatâŚâ
Lachlan didnât look pleased with her enthusiasm. He placed the litcom face down on the desk and folded his arms over it.
âYeah. Itâs a Cirque.â
In a society in which the governing forcesâthe Coalitionâhave stripped away citizensâ personal freedoms, people take any available opportunity to escape from reality; the Cirque, with its illusions, special effects, and mind-altering substances, offers many such opportunities. From trained animals and talented contortionists to seers and a truly skilled illusionist, the Cirque has something for all ages and types. Nothing about the Cirque is legal, but no matter if the crowds are affluent residents of more central planets or poverty-stricken people from outer worlds, everyone is drawn to the spectacle. The Cirque always has a captive audience. They can never stay in one place for too long for fear of the authorities, but two nights of performances bring in more than enough revenue to get the Cirque to the next planet.
Le Cirque Naviretakes place on Corapolvo, an outer world where the most fun one can have is joining friends after work at the bar for a non-alcoholic ale. Hadley Tack and her brother Lachlan have grown up on Corapolvo without parents, and all they have is each other. Lachlan, the youngest Captain the Coalition Army, is hardworking and straight-laced, while Hadley still possesses a predilection for mischief. They, like most of the people they know, have never seen the likes of a Cirque before. Lachlan makes it his mission to take down the Cirque, which means observing it firsthand as an attendee. Despite Lachlanâs objections, Hadley convinces him to let her come along; after all, everyone else will be there. Even if the seers and magicians are all charlatans, as Lachlan believes, there is something magical in the air with the circus in town.
We as readers attend the Cirque, and even separated from the experience through the page, we meander through the attractions in an unnatural haze. We have the advantage of experiencing the Cirque through multiple perspectives: through Lachlan, we have begrudging excitement battling his skepticism and overprotectiveness towards Hadley; through Hadley, the sheltered twenty-one- year-old, we experience childlike wonder at the sights, sounds, and overwhelming of the senses; in Jack Western, a relatively new member of the traveling crew, we have a bridge between the world of the Cirque and that of the audience; and in Annalise the fortune-teller and Cole the Ringmaster, we glimpse the dark inner workings of the Cirque. The darkness is as compelling as the clowns and pyrotechnics. In the darkness, just behind the scenes, there are some truly terrible secrets.
This is a story worth telling and worth reading. Cooke does a nice job of combining third person omniscient with suspense, mystique, and magic, even if she is sometimes heavy-handed in explaining her charactersâ thoughts and motivations. I love the constant battle between what we see and what someone else wants us to see as we wander, scramble, and gape our way through this otherworldly experience.
Without giving away too much, I look forward to reading the next book in this series, because there are a lot of questions to which I need answers. Overall, I like the characters, I am intrigued by the Cirque, and I want to return to the Cirque for another look at the magic.