G’Ren leapt down, barely needing handholds as he made his way to the ground.
“C’mon,” said Shiv. “You’ve caught your breath.”
If she was going to make a run for it, now would be the time. There wasn’t any point though. Even if she escaped into the fens, she’d be hard pressed to find any transport to anywhere. Maybe a bullet train? If she doubled back to the loading yards and found a way to squish herself in between the containers. And prayed the sniffer bots didn’t scan her out.
That’d be a cold, hard two-hour journey to Port Ryan, with no guarantees what she’d find once she disembarked.
“We haven’t got all night.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Nuri groused, then checked her hand- and footholds before she tilted over the edge into the nothingness of free fall. Her muscle memory kicked in and she twisted mid-plunge, grabbed a spar, swung out and pushed against a wall, dropped to the ground where she tucked and rolled, and then jogged up to where G’Ren stood, arms akimbo.
“Show-off,” he mumbled.
“You’re just sore you never managed that particular move.” Nuri dared to bare her teeth at him in what she hoped was a feral grin.
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go.”
Behind them, Shiv made the leap the same way G’Ren had, and they soon crossed the avenue and went in by the front door.
The guard was a hulking brute of a human male Nuri hadn’t met before, and she slid him a side-eye as she slunk in. The guy paid no attention to them, but judging by the slight red gleam to his eyes he had so much ’ware on him she wouldn’t be surprised if he was half cyborg.
Ugh. Cyborgs. Creepy. She shuddered.
This late – or early, depending on how she looked at it – most of the packs were out running, but a few familiar faces peered at her from perches or hammocks on the interior scaffolding as she traipsed up the rickety staircase leading to Vadith’s mezzanine quarters.
Strangely, the Den looked smaller than what she remembered. Grubbier too. It smelt of the mingled odours of too many species living in proximity, and not enough scrubbing. And, judging by the lingering spices, someone had cooked a Heran stew for dinner earlier.
Her feet were weighed down as she trudged up the stairs, G’Ren behind her most certainly aiming the gun at her. As it was, her spine itched with the imagined bolt, even as she weighed up the odds of an escape attempt. This was full circle too; Vadith was her remaining link to her past, to Fadhil even. The sadness rose from deep within her, but she fought it down as she reached Vadith’s quarters.
Vadith’s space had always felt exotic to her in the past, but now it looked tawdry. Why hadn’t she noticed how the day bed’s upholstery was bald in places? Or the sheer clutter of the junk – yes, it was junk – piled on every available surface. Everything from vases missing handles and half-repaired appliances through to boxes filled to the brim with scraps of fabric and the morose-looking stuffed pandor head mounted on a board. The unfortunate beast missed a glass eye and its ginger fur was patchy.
Vadith puffed hard on his pipe so that the water in the bulb frothed, then he blew lazy smoke rings into the hazy air. He almost reminded Nuri of a swamp-jigger, and she fought hard to keep her face a mask of neutrality.
Even when the pin she’d stolen from Fadhil caught the gleam of the overhead lamp. He was wearing it in his jacket, the bastard.
Vadith didn’t deserve that pin.
Nuri flexed her hands, stretched her neck slightly so that the muscles released tension.
“My, my, look what my little darlings dragged in,” Vadith drawled. “Missed us much? Or do you think you’re somehow better than us because you’ve been rubbing shoulders with Calan City’s finest?”
Nuri huffed out a sigh. He wanted to get a rise out of her, make her emotional, and she wouldn’t let him.
“Hey, Vadith. It looks more like you were the one who was dying to see me again. You even arranged a welcoming committee.” She inclined her head to the side, indicating G’Ren.
“Boss –” G’Ren started, but Vadith held up a hand to silence him.
Seeing Vadith lying there, so smug, so damned lazy, made Nuri ancestors-damned angry. That he could lift a hand and his minions scuttled about like roaches at his beck and call.
“You’ve grown a bit since we last saw you,” Vadith continued. “Not so much of a larva. Looks like you’ve got a bit more muscle. And spirit. I like that.” His smile made his face ghoulish.
“What do you want, Vadith?” Nuri would have liked nothing better than to slap the smug right off his face, but that would make her no better than him, really. She had to be smarter.
The humour fled from Vadith’s face. “No one takes what is mine, girl. Do you understand? Not those damn-fool people in that facility and most certainly not Fadhil.”
“Well, you must be happy he’s dead then,” Nuri spat. “Congratulations. You finally got the better of him.”
A cold realisation stole over her. What if it hadn’t only been the coalition of Merchanters, Military and Elders who didn’t want to see a barrens-dweller succeed? What if –
Vadith laughed, and the sound chilled her blood.
“B-b-but you’re just a barrens-boss,” Nuri stammered.
“What’s the first thing you do if you want people to underestimate you, space trash?” His smirk was ugly.
It felt as if the floor had spiralled out from beneath Nuri’s feet. Why would someone like Fadhil Tien consider Vadith a worthy opponent if Vadith was only in charge of running a few packs? What if the packs were only a front? For something Nuri didn’t even want to know about?
“Well, it seems they’ve at least given you some sort of education at that ancestors-forsaken facility.”
“You could have left me there, you know. Even with Fadhil dead.”
“What? And have you out of my grasp? You’re far more valuable to me when you don’t have wings.”
He’d been the one to find her, this much she understood. He knew things about her past that Fadhil had hinted at.
“What do you want with me then?” Nuri almost shouted, and had to bite back her words before she let loose all her anger. The helplessness of her situation burnt. She’d been under Nana’s thumb, and now she was under Vadith’s. Was this how her life would be? Even Fadhil had offered a leash of sorts.
“I will keep you safe, for starters,” he said. “And you will do as I bid you, when I give you the orders.”
“I’m only in this predicament because you made things unsafe for me,” Nuri said.
“How perceptive of you.” He trailed an idle finger along the top of the dragon pin in a way that was far too obvious, too measured.
Nuri’s heart thrummed a heavy drumbeat in her veins. She didn’t have to put up with this. She could stop it all now. It was as simple as breaking down the walls she’d built around her ability. The ancestors knew she had enough anger searing through her to power the destruction of a small planet. Who did this grinning maniac think he was to hold so much authority over her. Ruin her life so thoroughly?
Dimly, she was aware that her breathing was growing laboured, that her skin felt tight, both hot and freezing as she struggled to hold up the barrier between the rest of the world and her fury. It would be so easy to reduce all of this to a thousand splinters, to blast Vadith into dust.
Nuri stared at the little silver dragon’s ruby eye; it winked at her, and for a moment she swore the little thing twitched into motion on its silver ring. Could it just be a trick of the light, her imagination making her see things that weren’t there?
Vadith’s mouth pursed, closed and opened, but no sound was coming out. Nuri realised that sound was reaching her, except that it was reduced to low, pulsing wave-forms, like the noises made by the leviathans she’d seen in an underwater documentary about the world orbiting the star Gienah.
She tilted her head to the side, glimpsed G’Ren’s horrified expression as he moved his hand in an arc to draw the pisto
l. He must’ve holstered it when he came upstairs. Everything moved impossibly slowly, as if they were fighting their way through rapidly congealing jelly.
A pressure built up in Nuri’s chest, blooming with the sick realisation that her psi-powers were going to slip loose whether she wanted them to or not. She had a choice; she could blow everything to the stars here and now, and be done with it all. Or …
The little dragon pin winked at her, and Nuri closed the distance between her and Vadith. He had time to begin to shove the waterpipe to one side, but by then she was on him. Her fingers closed around the dragon pin.
“You don’t deserve this!” she snarled even as she punched out the window before her. Glass exploded outward as Nuri flew through the hole she’d created.
A comet, a meteorite. A bit of space junk flying through the atmosphere.
Even as she soared towards the tea room, angled to land at the roof, a fierce exultation blazed through her entire being.
I FOUND YOU!
Nuri landed hard, jarring her ankle, and crouched on the rusted roof panels, gasping. Hot tears burnt her eyes as she was doused in wave after wave of emotion – loss, love, fear.
Why did you leave me?
I’m sorry, Nuri sent back. It wasn’t safe. It was better that –
The siren call flooded her entire being, a come to me that was impossible to ignore. Her nose itched and warm liquid spilt slowly out of her left nostril. It felt as if her head was being squeezed in a vice.
Nuri was like metal filings on a table top, irresistibly drawn northwest, to the fens. Almost simultaneously, the glowing advertisement on the giant billboard about a hundred metres to Nuri’s left blazed with a special announcement. The facility logo flashed, along with a view of the hangar where the nymph was housed. EMERGENCE IMMANENT appeared in bold letters.
As Nuri gazed about further, other screens took up similar messages as various news companies came online. Festival lights came alive on the spires. The entire city would be grinding to a standstill now.
COME TO ME.
The longing in that call was so heavy, so flooded with yearning and a need to fill the loneliness. Nuri bit back a sob.
I’m not the right person, she wanted to say even though she understood in the depths of her heart that that was a lie. I’m nothing. I’m dirt. Space trash.
COME TO ME.
Below in the Den, spotlights blazed into life, swinging as they panned the environment. The hatch at the base opened, and the pod emerged. They were going to hunt her. Though Nuri had absolutely no idea what might happen should she even make it to the facility and face whatever lay in wait for her there, it sure as hell beat waiting to find out what Vadith would do if he caught her.
Nuri paused long enough to attach the pin to her hoodie, where it looked right, even though the fabric was grimy and travel stained. “Right,” she whispered. “I hope you’ve been worth all the trouble.”
With that she pushed off from the roof and started running. A searchlight struck her side on as she leapt to the perimeter wall of the structure next to the teahouse, and the whirring of the pod grew agitated as the pilot changed course.
Whatever running Nuri would do this night, she’d be running as if more than her life depended on it. Her erstwhile pack knew all her tricks, and they were fresh while she was, as she had been for the past while, running on empty. But the more she ran, the more Nuri realised she was done running from her fate. Now she would run to it, with arms outstretched. Or die in trying.
* * *
Greens Towers lay just ahead. It was an ageing apartment block that had been built about a decade previously as part of a Calan City project to uplift the barrens while providing much-needed housing. Needless to say, it had proved a dismal failure. Funding had eventually dried up, so only one of the structures had been completed. The other two were derelict, hulking skeletons of scaffolding slowly disintegrating as it rusted away.
As it was, a few hardy souls dared to make their homes there, and if there was anywhere she’d be able to shake pursuit, it’d be the Towers. With the siren song echoing maddeningly in her head, Nuri pushed on, dashing between the carapaces of broken vehicles and mounds of rubble. Behind her, the pod’s thrusters squealed as the pilot banked sharply to keep up with Nuri’s sudden changes in direction. She feinted as if she was headed to the old warehouses that had been repurposed as lodgings, but then swung to her right and pushed hard across the debris-strewn field outside the primary entrance of the completed tower.
The most important lesson Nuri had learnt from early on was to never look back. The moment anyone looked back, they took their eyes off their destination. A runner could stumble, miss a crucial handhold. As much as she detested the itchy feeling between her shoulder blades, it served her better to keep going. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed shadowy pursuers on foot, trying to flank her. All the more reason to keep going, even though her lungs felt as though they were fit to burst.
People had gathered in the portico, and a trio of Herans was busy setting up a plasma screen as Nuri bounded past.
“Hey! Hey! Watch where you’re going!” someone shouted, but Nuri was already inside the hallway and hurrying up the stairs.
She dodged a family of humans coming downstairs carrying cooler boxes. Nuri leapt up onto the bannister and used her upward momentum to bounce herself off the wall and then down on the other side again as she carried on climbing.
Stupid to use the elevator anyway. No guarantee the damned thing was working. This way she could pick a floor where she could detour and maybe work her way back once she was sure her hunters were distracted.
Yells of “Hey, you!” and “Careful!” rang out behind her.
Probably the pack on her tail.
Nuri segued off on the sixth floor into a dim warren of passages. Ancestors, how many apartments on this floor? Not all of them had windows. How bloody awful. It was dark, and the place stank. Probably a whole clan of J’Veth nesting here – they had an unmistakeable mushroomy odour when they lived in proximity to each other, and in such poor conditions.
Someone had helpfully unscrewed all the light fittings, so the only discernible source of illumination seeped into the passages courtesy of doors that didn’t shut properly. Fortunately, Nuri’s eyes quickly adjusted – another advantage she had over her pursuers. The smears of graffiti were mostly the tags of the Browndarts – a particularly nasty J’Veth-exclusive gang with whom she’d had run-ins in the past. All the more reason to tread light and fast.
She took a left, a right, and then another right – doubling back to the landing. All the while she listened, paused in shadowy doorways to try figure out where the others were. Currently all she could hear was the overwhelming drone of at least a dozen different news stations blaring through the apartments. This event was important for people. It gave them hope.
Also, for the barrens J’Veth, it was a matter of pride that there were three J’Veth Chosen. This was an alien concept for Nuri, who’d only ever really considered herself in the singular – there was only one of her, whatever that one was. No one to look on at her progress in pride. If she failed, that was it. Nothing. Nada.
Currently, she had no idea how to deal with her need to respond to the nymph’s call other than to try. If she failed …
If she failed, she would end up dead, and that was better than the alternative – years of servitude beneath Vadith’s heel. That’s if he didn’t kill her for the psi stunt she’d just pulled.
A figure crossed the intersection ahead of her, and she froze. Then another.
“There!”
Nuri was already turning, running back the way she’d come.
Superheated air zipped past her left cheek, and a laser bolt exploded into the door jamb just ahead of her.
Okay, so they were aiming to maim, to kill even. Guess she had her answer.
She pelted down another passage, following the signs that pointed the way to the fire escape.
Swear words in half a dozen languages dropped from Nuri’s lips.
Zzzzt! Zzzzaatt! went the laser bolts, showering her with sparks.
The futility of her situation burnt through her. Who was she fooling? She’d never get out. But she kept going. The nymph’s song tugged at her blood, her bones.
The empty doorway of the fire escape loomed, and she clattered onto the rickety landing and only just stopped herself from falling through the non-existent panel to her left.
No time to think. She jumped, grabbed the edge of the floor above her and swung out then up, tilting her body sideways so that she rolled onto the landing of the upper storey. At that very moment, her pursuers hit the landing below her. A despairing wail told her that one hadn’t seen the gap she’d so narrowly missed, and she winced at the faint, meaty thud far below.
“Above!”
Nuri didn’t wait to find out who was after her. She gathered herself and flew up the stairs. The entire structure swayed alarmingly, little flakes of rust sloughing as she gripped the railing.
Those hunting her rattled after her heavily, making her wonder if the entire structure would come loose from the building. The bolts holding the fire escape were in many places gone, simply rusted away.
By the eighth floor, she had to admit this hadn’t been one of her brightest ideas, because none of the fire-escape doors she tried were unlocked. The high-pitched whine of the pod above, followed by a thud many floors up, suggested they’d just dropped someone above. She could carry on climbing stairs, but eventually she’d run out of floors and her pursuers would get her.
She paused on a landing, gripping the railing so tightly she could hear the metal creak. Or was it the tendons in her hand? This high up, the people walking around on the ground below looked like little bugs. A chill wind licked at her hot skin – if she didn’t make a decision soon, her muscles would begin to cramp.
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