She sighs, long and hard. “I don’t know. What about your mother?”
“Apparently she’s barricaded herself in the building and won’t come out. The doc said I should rest, and I’m not sure Mother knows the meaning of the word.”
“Lady can be a handful.”
“That’s a polite way of putting it. I’ll have to speak with Mother, but I don’t want to move in. One night will turn into two, and she’ll be treating me like I’m five.”
Kaih chuckles. “You did have a cute mop of hair back then.”
I swallow. I don’t remember her at all from my childhood, although we must have occasionally shared the limited play facilities on board the ship. I’d like to think it was a product of the procedure the Company used to wipe my memories, but the truth is the only non-Fishie I really noticed was Asher. And only her because not noticing a girl so incredible is impossible. Back then I didn’t realize that Lifers were people the same as us.
Shame makes the usual ache in my head pound. Something of the pain must show in my face because Kaih straightens, obviously about to leave.
And we haven’t organized her looking after me. “So, your tent or mine?”
She doesn’t react to my joke, and I don’t blame her. “I’ll be back to sign you out of the hospital in a few hours. I’ll check with the nurse for an exact time.” Her nose wrinkles. “You can stay with me, but I expect you to shower first.”
“The showers here make me miss the ship.” I say it without really thinking. My mind’s on the communal shower blocks with their irregular hot water and delights of sharing with people I don’t know. Not on the Lifer girl who wouldn’t have known the simple joys of a clean room. “Sorry. I know you didn’t—”
She waves my apology away. “Your cold shower spells misery to you, but to us it’s a step toward equality.”
“I’m sorry, and thank you.”
With me firmly put in my place and feeling about as big as one of the red beetles abundant in camp, Kaih turns and head for the door.
“Three days,” I say.
Her steps slow, and she stops with her hand on the door.
“You asked earlier when she’d return. If Asher isn’t back in three days you can worry.” I hope I sound more confident than I feel. Knowing Asher is going to the enemy in the company of my brother means I won’t be waiting for days to elapse before I imagine the worst. He’s probably betraying her right now, and I’m stuck here powerless to do anything about it.
Kaih’s blond hair catches the overhead light and shines as she nods once before leaving and closing the door behind her.
Three days.
Before Asher returns, I’ll discover what they’re hiding past the operating theater. Or I’ll be caught trying. Either way, everything will be different. I should plan for tonight, but thoughts of Asher make me powerless to do anything but anticipate the moment I can be with her again.
Chapter Seven
[Asher]
When I can’t answer her question, Rael leaves me alone to think.
I appreciate her quiet promise to keep a lookout for my ‘friend’ returning, and the click of her grimy, skinny fingers that takes Brown Dog with her. But what I really want to do is sleep. The urge to curl up on the mattress and return to oblivion dominates everything else.
Giving into whatever Davyd drugged me with isn’t an option. I have to fight it.
I drink until my belly aches, splash icy water from the well on my face and stretch tight muscles. Needing to get the blood flowing, I execute chin-ups on one of the veranda beams until my shoulders burn and then run as hard as I can to the top of the hill. None of it fully shakes the lethargy from my heavy limbs, but by the time my stomach is rumbling and weak sunshine has broken through the clouds on the horizon, I can at least retain the problem in mind.
He must have had this in mind all along.
Meeting me on guard late at night and planting the seed of me going to the council meeting—it was his plan. I should have choked the traitor when I had the chance. I knew there was something, but I didn’t think I’d be left drugged and alone in the middle of nowhere.
First, I need to get to the Company. Dealing with Davyd will have to wait. Gripping the veranda rail, I clench at the prospect, driving splinters into my palms. I brush them off as Rael climbs the steps, Brown Dog at her heels. There’s a skip in her step and a smile on her face. “Brown Dog fetches,” she says, waving an old shoe.
I fight back amusement. I’m supposed to be coming up with a solution to Davyd’s betrayal, but it’s hard to remain serious around Rael’s innocent enthusiasm. The suspicious girl of this morning has disappeared, and her child’s ability to forget what made her so frightened hurts to see. She’s like Zed. The realization triggers an ache deep inside where I thought I couldn’t feel anymore.
Oblivious to the memories I can’t fight, she drops the shoe and frowns. “I walked the whole perimeter, and there’s no sign of your friend.”
“I didn’t think there would be,” I reply. But stupidly, despite wanting to ring Davyd’s neck, part of me hoped. “Do you have a vehicle I can borrow?”
“Are you going after him?”
I hesitate. She might be young with an open face, but it doesn’t make her someone I should confide in. “I figure it’s a long walk from here to pretty much anywhere.”
“Anywhere?”
I sigh. “I need to get to the city.”
“Why?”
Even if I wanted to share my mission, it would sound so ridiculous she probably wouldn’t believe me. It was crazy for me to attempt to steal something with only Davyd—and something I doubt would be sitting in the open with ‘anger medicine’ on the label. Now I’m alone and heading to a place I know nothing about. To try is insane.
But I can’t give up.
I can’t go back. No green robe volunteered to put their vulnerability to the Q on the line to help us Lifers and Fishies. And there’s not a Fishie I’d trust except Samuai.
Samuai … Cold trickles down my spine. If I’d chosen Samuai none of this would have happened. He’s as clever as Davyd, as good a fighter, and he’s actually seen New City. My eyes close as remorse comes on in a wave. I’ve made a huge mistake.
“Why?” Rael presses.
When I open my eyes again, she’s leaning toward me, her bright eyes on my face and waiting for my answer. I search for a lie and find nothing. It should be easy to make up something to trick her; it’s not like this girl means anything to me.
I settle on part of the truth. There’s no need to tell her that I have a rage condition that could lead me to snap and kill her at any moment. It’s not the way to encourage help.
“The Company has something I need, and I’m going to get it back.”
Her hand on Brown Dog’s head, she studies me and her dirty face is impressively blank. I don’t know what she’s looking for in me but she must find it. “I have a bike hidden,” she says softly. “Like the one your friend left on.”
“A bike? That would be great.” I’m only hours from New City. All going well, I might catch Davyd and stop him carrying out whatever he has planned. If Davyd can handle one, it can’t be too hard. I wish I’d paid more attention yesterday instead of focusing on trying to touch him as little as possible. “Where is it?”
She flashes a grin and holds up her hand. “Not so fast, there’s a condition.”
“Name it.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Refusal springs to my lips but I don’t utter it. After all she’s not mine to keep from harm. “Why?”
“They have something of mine, too.”
“What?”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is getting to New City.”
I can’t help admiring her determination. “I’m not looking for someone I have to babysit.”
Almost before the sentence is out of my mouth, she’s pressing the bla
de of her knife against my throat again. “I can look after myself.”
With the drug’s effect on my limbs reduced, it only takes a flick of my wrist and sweep of my leg to have her on her backside with the knife sliding to a stop across the veranda. I might have only done the minimal battles in the training rooms back on ship, but in the weeks since we’ve been in camp and preparing for battle with the Company, I’ve been working with anyone who’ll teach me.
Rael looks up at me. “I don’t expect you to look after me.” Despite our relative positions, there’s certainty in her voice.
I sigh. This is probably another mistake but the alternative is forcing her to tell me where the bike is and taking it from her. “Fine. We share a ride, and when we reach New City, go our separate ways.”
She jumps to her feet. “Works for me.”
***
It doesn’t take long to eat some breakfast and pack our belongings. The drizzle is holding off, but dark clouds loom overhead, threatening rain any moment. Rael gives me a quick lesson on the bike but insists on driving. I don’t argue. Where I thought Davyd could handle a bike, with Rael it’s like an extension of her body. The quicker we’re underway, the better.
Twice I almost ask why she hasn’t left until now, but I catch myself. The less involved I am the easier it will be to go our separate ways when we reach the city.
The hardest part is leaving Brown Dog. Rael wipes her tear streaked face, and we leave him some of Rael’s hidden food supply.
“Stay, good dog.” Rael shouts the instruction over the sound of the bike. “I’ll be back for you when I can.”
I know he’s just a dog, but I still lean down from the bike and give him a final pat. There’s so much intelligence in those warm eyes, I can’t resist. “Good dog,” I mutter.
And then the bike leaps forward.
I don’t look back, but Rael calls out something about the dog disappearing off into the fields. It’s probably for the best. It’s not like I wanted some mutt following us to New City.
I’d guess we’re about ten minutes from the farm when we reach an intersection in the dirt road. The old track is in pretty good condition, with only deep potholes and some washing away of the edges showing its disuse. Fields stretch off into the distance, and each way looks the same to me. Rael doesn’t hesitate in choosing the left path.
With Rael driving, I take the opportunity to look for traces of Davyd having come this way, but there’s no sign of him. He must have gone another way.
Minutes later we have to stop at a deep chasm cutting across the dirt road. Both sides of the opening are lifted like the ground was pushed upwards before it buckled and split. I freeze in wonder at the sight of what the Upheaval did to the earth. The remnants of the government, which became the Company, blamed the revolting of the ground on an alien attack. Defending against another in the future allowed them to seize the equipment to build the Lifer vessels and take the convicts as servants.
Now we know it was all some kind of breeding program to make us resistant to what they declared as alien technology.
I don’t know what to believe.
It’s hard to think past their violation of our trust and our bodies. If it’s true and aliens are coming—does that give them the right to do what they have done?
“We’ll have to go around,” Rael calls.
I nod, and she turns off the road, slowing the bike as she finds the best path through the undergrowth. On the other side of the chasm, the movement of the earth has left a depression filled with water. Around the water feature, tall trees have grown, with leaves so bright they hurt my gloom-adjusted eyes.
Was that?
I blink, and what I thought I saw is gone. What I thought was a blur of brown moving, is a bush with spindly branches and tiny leaves. Not a running dog.
When we make it back onto the road, it’s in the shelter of a huge cliff on our right. Away to our left are empty fields like those at the farm and another waterhole with trees around it.
This time Rael sees it too.
“Brown Dog,” she cries as we draw level with the trees.
He lopes toward us, tongue lolling, and what looks for all the world, like a grin on his face.
Rael stops the bike, and he leaps onto her lap. “I told you to stay,” she says. Her voice is stern, but her hands are rubbing his ears and her nose is pressed into his matted, stinking neck.
I lean forward and scratch under his chin, ignoring the dirt it shakes free. “He must have cut across the fields somehow to have kept up.”
We get off the bike. I stretch my aching muscles while Rael gives Brown Dog more attention.
“Seeing him again is a good omen, don’t you think?” Rael asks from where she’s crouched in the damp dirt, her arms around his neck.
“I think so.” The words are out my mouth before I remember I don’t really believe in omens and that my mission has no space for a dog or a child.
For a second the only sound is Brown Dog’s happy panting, but then a low rumble begins. It grows louder as my heart hammers in my chest.
“A vehicle,” Rael shouts.
Her hands fumble as she tries to grab the bike and I reach in to help. We have to get out of here. Brown Dog yaps, and the sounds of the engine gets closer, coming from around the bend up ahead. The bike wobbles, tips and falls away from our hands.
“Leave it,” I cry.
But there’s no more time for the bike or to run. A van appears. White with black windows. So close now I can see the figures at the wheel.
Company.
A moment later there’s another and then a third van rounds the corner.
Two more officers jump out of the first van, their faces focused, weapons drawn.
I knew I’d see Company uniforms when we made it to New City. I didn’t know my stomach would shrivel at the sight. Memories of them tearing at my mother swamp all reason. I can’t think. I don’t breathe. Rage climbs with hot fingers into my throat and my ears ring with it.
My legs tense. To run at them? To flee? But where? Open fields stretch away into the distance on either side. There’s nowhere to hide.
Fight.
My body urges me to spring. Adrenaline meets the rage and I’m buzzing with it. The end wouldn’t be pretty but I could take a few of the Company with me, hurt them for all they’ve done.
And leave Rael behind. Defenseless.
Like Zed was left behind.
I stand and wait. Aware that Brown Dog has slipped away into the long grass. Feeling the trembling of Rael at my side despite the defiant lift to her chin.
The officers spread out in a circle. Now there are six of them surrounding us. Not one has uttered a single word. So focused am I on the six Company officers that I don’t see the seventh until he’s out of the first van and crossing the road.
Davyd.
He’s dressed in Company gray. Wearing the suit like it was made for his broad shoulders. And I hate that I noticed.
Angry tears threaten. How could I ever have thought I could trust him?
Every step is infused with the cocky swagger he hasn’t had since we left the ship.
This is the Fishie last seen with the Lifer who made the attempt to take Lady hostage. The Lifer who was found after the battle with the Company with his throat slit. With Samuai gone Davyd had taken responsibility for his mother and nothing could be allowed to threaten that. In the same way, Maston and the Nauts were always his goal.
I should have realized.
“Miss me?” he asks.
I let my gaze flick over his armed companions. “Three vans? Really? I’m but a single servant.”
“You would have taken them out if I’d brought only one, and the third was insurance. You should know they’re carrying real old-fashioned guns since you’re Q-resistant.” He arches a brow. “Want to see how they work?”
“I didn’t think you were here for demonstrations.”
> “If you or the girl run you’ll get one.” His head jerks to where Rael is stiff at my side. “I’m quite amused by you having a little companion. It’s not like you to make friends so quickly.”
I swallow the rage setting my inside alight. He’s goading me. Snapping will give him an excuse to use force on us, and while I’d take my chances to get a hold of his pretty face, I can’t indulge in my temper when there’s a child at risk. I say nothing.
He laughs. “You’re determined to make this as boring as possible.” Coming closer, he nudges Rael with one foot. “What about you? Any plans to try to escape?”
She smiles at him with a child’s sweetness and then spits. The globule flies through the air and splats onto his pristine gray chest.
I bite down a cheer.
Davyd’s eyes are narrow slits. “You’ll regret that.”
“Will not,” she’s quick to retort.
He turns to the closest officer, a red-haired man with fine age lines marking his freckled skin. “Is her behavior appropriate?”
“No, sir.”
He turns back to Rael. One second he’s staring her down, his eyes intense but his lips curved into a typical smirk, then next he’s gripped her arm, holding her so she can’t move. She squirms without success and there’s terror in her eyes. He holds something above it, letting me see. A stubby knife handle but without a blade. It’s some kind of Company weapon.
“No,” I cry.
But I’m too late. A flick of his fingers and her flesh is opened from her elbow to the back of her hand. Blood blooms like sick flowers along the cut.
I shove him away, uncaring of what he might do to me. I didn’t see a blade and my brain is refusing to process what happened. My arms go around her narrow shoulders in comfort, but despite the shaking of her whole body and the drips of blood falling into the dirt, she shakes me off and glares at him.
“Do. Not. Mess. With. Me,” he snarls, sliding the knife back into his boot. “Get me a cloth,” Davyd barks to another of the officers, turning away from where Rael is now crumpled on the ground, trying to stem the fast flowing blood.
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