“Calm down. Take a breath.” I wait a heartbeat for her to get herself under control.
The sobs stop but she’s breathing heavily. “I’m going to fall.”
“Not if we can help it.”
I strain out as far as possible. “Can you take my hand?”
“No.”
“Try.”
Megs grunts as she stops me from sliding down the slippery slope. “Stay with me, Blank.”
This is useless. If only we had a rope. “Wait,” I call and wriggle back to safer land.
The helmet sticks but I get it over my head, shaking sweat onto the ground. The black hoodie follows. I don’t know if the material will hold her weight but it’s worth a try.
The ground’s hard beneath me as I wind the material over my wrist and drop it down toward the girl. “Grab the hoodie.”
Nothing happens.
“Take it.”
The girl groans. And leaps. She hangs in the air and then both hands are on the black material.
The sudden weight yanks my arms so the sockets burn. I’m sliding. The black opens up before me. Everything in me says to let go of the material. But now I see her eyes. Dark brown and awash with tears in a young, terrified face.
There’s no way I’ll let go. We stop falling but we still have to pull her up.
“If it comes to it, let me go,” I say to Megs.
She barks a laugh and her grip on my ankles tightens.
The girl looks at us like we’ve lost our minds. In my case it’s probably true. “We’ll get you out.” I put confidence I don’t feel into the words.
She nods, but it’s clear she doesn’t believe me. Her eyes are still wide, the whites red and bulging as she swings over nothing.
Inch by inch, I pull at the material. Slowly and surely I lift the girl closer to the edge. I’m holding my breath, completely focused on dragging her out. One minute. If I give it everything for sixty seconds I think I’ll have her free.
But the earth’s damaged from the Upheaval.
It starts with one rock. A piece of gravel tumbles down into the darkness. Then another and another. The girl ducks her head to avoid the rain of dirt and gravel in her face. The ground gives way beneath my chest. There’s no time for careful.
My fingers are twisted in the material. I heave on it with everything I have. She rises. Just a fraction. But more and more of the ground crumbles away.
I taste bile. I suck in a breath filled with the scent of sweat. I’m going into the blackness with the girl who tried to kill me.
But letting go and watching her fall?
“Megs,” I shout. “Let. Me. Go.”
“I won’t.”
Arching my body makes things worse. Megs’ hands don’t budge. More guilt settles like a boulder on my back. Unlike me, she has a brother, friends. People who will miss her if she goes off a cliff with me. I close my stinging eyes. We’re all going to die.
“Thank you.” I look down. The soft, calm voice belongs to the girl hanging on the end of my hoodie. “For trying.”
And then, with a final sad smile, she lets go.
Chapter Thirteen
[Asher]
“Ready?” Davyd asks.
I look up from the small pile of mending Lady left me to do while she had her afternoon rest. He’s leaning against the doorframe, not looking at the images of his brother that decorate the walls. As usual, Davyd’s focus is all on me.
“Ready for what?”
“Me to keep my word.”
My head snaps up. I jab the needle into my thumb and muffle a cry of pain.
Davyd laughs. “If it scars, will that be a memorial for me?”
“No.”
He places his hand over his heart and adopts a pained expression. “Always second to the wonderful Samuai.”
“Yes.” What scares me isn’t the easy smirk Davyd responds with, it’s the way my memories of Samuai are being replaced by the still pictures surrounding me each night. In my efforts to understand how he died, I’ve become too busy to think of him as much as I should.
In contrast, Zed’s memories linger as a blanket of bittersweet, catching me when I least expect it. Zed’s still around in the taste of a new delicacy he would’ve liked and the amusement I know he’d feel whenever I do something foolish. Maybe I shouldn’t envy Lady her shrine. Maybe one day it’s all she’ll have left.
I tidy up as fast as I can, but my brain’s going even faster. The Control Room? Now? All my mental planning disappears and I taste my nerves in the dryness of my mouth. I fumble, dropping some of the thread.
Davyd laughs. “Nervous?”
“No.” The lie slips out easily. Showing Davyd weakness is like inviting a wild animal for the kill.
“Then why do your hands tremble?”
I curl them into fists and shoot him a glare. “I’m ready.”
I have to be.
Davyd turns and strides out the door. I trail behind. I didn’t expect us to make an attempt on the Control Room in the middle of the afternoon, without any kind of preparation. I wish I’d eaten something for lunch, but after a few days of rich food my stomach’s constantly queasy.
When we reach the hallway I jog to keep up. “What’s the plan?”
He gave me his word but I don’t want to head into the Nauts’ stronghold blind. He halts without warning so I slam into his shoulder. His brow arches in that amusement I despise. “The plan?”
“Yes.”
“What plan?” he asks with a smirk. He’s messing with me.
But why? He’s far too pleased with himself and far too unconcerned about the challenge ahead. Maybe ice does flow in his veins.
“How’re we getting to the Control Room?” I whisper.
“The Control Room?” He repeats dumbly.
The words curl around me like a snake, twisting and squeezing so it’s hard to breathe. Due to the lack of food, I fight back a dizzy spell. I fold my arms. “Where are we going?”
He reaches out and gently angles my head to lean close to my ear. The fine hairs on my neck rise and I don’t dare move so as not to miss a thing. Up close his smooth skin’s perfect, his gray eyes full of secrets. I wonder if he thinks I smell better than I did before using the clean room.
He exhales. “Manufacturing.” He drops his hand and walks down the hallway, leaving me standing open jawed in his wake.
What the hell?
I’m tempted not to follow. To let him go to Manufacturing, or whatever it is he’s doing, alone. Of course that would leave me standing in a hallway on Fishie level, a place I’m not supposed to be unattended.
He doesn’t look back.
Damn him, he knows I have to follow. Even if regulations didn’t require it, my lost brother’s memory does. Feeling more like a servant than I ever did washing dishes or scrubbing floors, I force my feet to move. He doesn’t look at me in the elevator or as we walk through the different Manufacturing areas.
Each area’s divided by clear partitions to dampen the noise of the machinery inside and contain any fire outbreaks. Food Processing’s burnt remains add a trace of smoke to the air. The biggest ship disaster of my childhood was this fire. The Fishies allowed us to refurbish the sprinkler systems afterwards, but it was easier to convert another part of the Manufacturing quarters than try to reclaim anything left from the fire.
The floor vibrates beneath my feet and I taste grease on every breath, making my empty belly churn. The work down here’s mostly automated recycling, but Lifers oversee everything under the management of a Fishie.
Davyd stares straight ahead, not sparing the men and women working in the humid, sweaty conditions a glance of sympathy. I offer those I know a surreptitious wave and understanding grimace. These are some of the least favored posts on the ship.
At Clothing Technology, Davyd activates the scanner and enters between the sliding doors. As I step inside after him, I’m already searching
for Kaih. Boring uniform repairs occupy the majority of workers here but a few Lifers work almost exclusively to create the casual wear of the Fishies and Nauts.
Kaih’s one. If not for the Upheaval and her great-grandmother’s crime, Kaih would’ve been a designer. Her flair for shapes and colors is unmatched on the ship. With the ball to celebrate the New Year changeover approaching, there are several Fishie females here before us, checking on the progress of their outfits for the biggest social event on the Pelican.
A Fishie girl stands almost naked on a box in the center of the room with her back to us. Her long brown hair trails to her waist over plump curves, a stark contrast to her perfectly white skin. I haven’t seen her in over a year but I know it’s Tesae.
Tesae’s two years older than me and we never mixed as we went through the training rooms. But she’s infamous for losing every training room fight and for being the first to the side of any male victor, where she would bat her eyelashes and thrust out her well-developed chest. As the best fighters in our age group, Samuai and Davyd were two of her favorites.
Even if I weren’t a Lifer, and therefore beneath her in every way, she would’ve hated me because Samuai didn’t.
She says something in low tones to the Fishie woman who’s with her and then turns.
Her eyes narrow and her thin mouth presses to a flat line when she recognizes me. “You.”
Then she spots Davyd and her mouth curves into a simpering smile. “Oh, I’m just so embarrassed,” she purrs, without making a move to cover any of the flesh exposed by her tiny pink bra and panties. If anything, she arches her back to more prominently display her curves.
Davyd doesn’t appear to notice, instead approaching Kaih, who’s walking in from the storeroom next door.
I smirk at the dismay on Tesae’s face, but fail miserably to hide it.
Kaih frowns at me over Davyd’s shoulder, biting on her nails as usual. I attempt to school my features into subservient neutral. But not fast enough. Tesae folds her arms and glares. “I’d like some privacy while I’m being fitted.”
Kaih moves to intervene. “You’re welcome to return to one of the fitting rooms.”
“No,” says Tesae. “I want her to leave.” She points a silver-painted fingernail at me.
I back away automatically. If a Fishie says go, it’s not prudent to wait. I don’t even know why I’m here.
Davyd steps between us, facing Tesae. “Use a fitting room.”
“But—” begins Tesae.
He takes a single step toward her. “A fitting room.”
There’s no questioning the authority in his tone. He turns his back on Tesae, dismissing her. Twin spots of angry color appear in her cheeks but she doesn’t dare argue, storming toward the rooms in a dramatic huff. Davyd doesn’t see because his focus is on Kaih. “You’re the best here?”
She hesitates, shooting me a confused glance, before nodding slowly.
“Good. My mother demands we get a dress. You will help us.”
We get a dress?
“Why isn’t the lady here?” Kaih asks the question I’m thinking.
Davyd looks at me then. He holds my gaze for a long moment and as usual I struggle to look away. He returns his attention to Kaih, but not before I catch amusement lurking in his eyes. “The dress isn’t for my mother.”
I go still. I can’t let myself believe it.
“For Asher?” Kaih whispers the question.
In the heartbeat it takes for him to answer, I don’t even know what I want him to say. I’ve never wanted to be a girl like Tesae with her long hair and fancy clothes.
Really? Not even when you thought about her and Samuai together at the End of Year ball?
With Samuai gone, nobody’s left I want to impress.
“Mother requires our servant to be more suitably dressed,” Davyd confirms.
I don’t know whether the gasp I hear is mine or Kaih’s. It doesn’t matter. The blood rushes from my head and the room begins to tilt. It’s kind of funny how wide Kaih eyes get and how the green wall behind her begins to go fuzzy.
Concern squiggles across her face and she steps toward me. “Asher, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I begin. But my knees have other ideas. I sway. Black teases my vision.
Strong hands grip my shoulders. Davyd. He holds me upright when without him I would fall. I pull myself together and shake free of his touch. Hopefully the smile I force onto my face appears less shaky than it feels.
“I’m fine,” I repeat.
I resist lifting my hands to where he touched me. Why did he catch me when it would have amused him to let me crumple at his feet?
I read his face but his expression’s ice. “The dress must be completed before the ball.” He exits without looking back.
Kaih clutches my hands. She’s doing a little jig. “You’re going to the ball, you’re going to the ball!”
“I can’t believe it.” The ball’s the stuff of many whispered stories in the lower levels of the ship. It’s the only time anyone sees the Nauts away from their Control Room and their most private quarters on the top level of the ship, where Lifers aren’t even allowed to clean.
“It’s the ball.” She lowers her voice. “You’ll be the first Lifer to attend as a guest.”
Where someone else might be envious, there’s only excitement from Kaih. Something closer to dread churns in my belly. I never wanted to be the first anything and I won’t be welcome. The divide on the ship between the Lifers and everyone else has existed for three generations. With our final destination approaching, it’s not time to mess with the order of things.
I’m a servant, while Lady has already broken protocol by having me stay in her dead son’s room, but having a dress made is a public statement. Of what, I’m not sure.
Most Fishies, like Tesae, plan their outfits for months. I don’t know what Lady expects Kaih to create in a few days. Although if anyone can, it’s Kaih. She tugs on my hand, dragging me toward the storeroom. “Come with me.”
Tesae stalks from one of the fitting rooms as we pass. She’s fully clothed now, in a green casual dress that hugs her figure, and she looks pissed.
Seeing me with Kaih, she freezes. “A lesser servant fitted me so you two could gossip? There will be a report with your name on it.”
I don’t want to get Kaih in trouble. “We’re on Lady’s orders, miss.” I bow my head. “Sorry.” I choke out the word.
Some of the stiffness drains from Tesae’s shoulders. “I’ll check to make sure you’re telling the truth. Now do my shoes.”
She points her untied lace-up slipper in my direction, daring me to refuse and prove the subservient act is just that. If it weren’t for Kaih, if it weren’t for the greater goal of Samuai and Zed, if it weren’t for the rebellion, I’d tell her where she could stick her slipper.
Instead I drop to my knees and wind the ribbon carefully around her ankle, tying it in the fashion Lady favors. I keep my breathing even and resist tightening the ribbon any more than necessary. Some things are more important than this girl’s petty games. But it’s Fishies like her who make the rumblings for rebellion grow louder with every passing day.
I finish and stand, keeping my gaze on the floor. Without another word, Tesae leaves the clothing tech room and Kaih exhales in a long sigh. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Forget her. She was probably pissed because she wanted you to oversee the fitting.”
Kaih flashes a smile. “Probably. She wants some terrible red leather number that would look better on a sofa.”
Everything’s recycled from somewhere. An image of the plush furniture in Lady’s apartment springs to mind. “Was it a sofa? Before?”
Kaih giggles, quickly covering her mouth when one of the Fishies across the room looks our way. “Probably.”
Salvaged pieces of material fill the storeroom. There are machines to recycle cloth from the thread components but
sewing actual scraps is preferred because of the power the machine takes to run.
Kaih’s slender hand on my arm stops me inside the door. I back up and nearly bump into a big pile of material.
“Careful,” she snaps with more force than I’ve ever heard from her.
I frown.
“Don’t move,” she orders.
For so much of our lives I’ve been the leader, but this is her thing and I do as I’m told.
Kaih stands in the middle of the room. She’s perfectly still. Except for her eyes. They dart from me to the material and back. “Have to consider the hair…Narrow…No bust to speak of…” she mutters.
I squirm under her professional eye and I stop myself covering up.
Finally she claps her hands together. “I’ve got it.” She drags a bundle of fabric from the bottom of a towering pile. It’s white. Plain, ordinary white. “What do you think?”
“Looks…great?”
Instead of being upset, Kaih laughs. “Wait ‘til you see it.”
She takes my measurements in a whirl of prodding and poking. When she’s done, she rests her hands on her hips. “Do you want input or can I create something that will actually look good?”
“I get to choose?”
“Yup.”
I should tell her to design me something to blend in, so no one will notice the Lifer girl in the corner. But that will never happen. An image of Davyd’s knowing grin appears in my mind. I imagine blowing him away and putting him off balance for once. “Make me look good, I guess.”
I don’t wait long before Davyd returns to escort me back to the upper levels. He’s silent as we walk together toward the elevators and says nothing as we step inside. He scans his wrist and presses the button for the Fishie apartment level. The doors close.
In two steps he’s wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against the length of his body. My breath escapes in a hiss as his hands brace my shoulders. His gaze hooks me and I’m unable to look away. My heart beats like it’s trying to get out of my chest, closer to him. “What the hell?” Is what I mean to say, but I make no sound.
He leans in, close to my ear. “Did you choose something pretty for the ball?” He trails a finger down my cheek.
Lifer Page 15