Lifer

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Lifer Page 23

by Beck Nicholas


  The ship is on this island, in this mountain. It has to be.

  As we climb higher, more soil covers the rock face and the trees are joined by undergrowth. No flowers interrupt the dark tangle beneath the overhanging branches. Waves break the silence behind us and salt in the air scents each breath I take.

  Slap. Slap. Slap.

  A new sound adds to the water. I stop to listen. Could it be an animal? It sounds like—

  “Someone’s coming. Get off the trail.”

  Moments later, we lie flat in the undergrowth. Megs between Keane and I, and Toby on the other side.

  “What did you hear?” Megs’ whisper sounds loud in the night.

  The approaching footsteps carry clearly through the trees. They’re coming from above. But there’s a puzzled frown on Megs’ face.

  “They’re coming.” I listen again. “At a run.”

  From their confused expressions, I add superior hearing to what’s different about me. Thinking back to the game at the warehouse, maybe it wasn’t just the Focus’n that gave me advanced reflexes.

  Megs’ eyes widen, showing white as though the noise that’s been so clear to me reaches her at last.

  “Quiet.” It’s Keane and he’s glaring at both of us.

  We don’t move. I hold my breath, thankful for the green robe that makes my body disappear into the dense undergrowth. The noise gets closer and closer and then there’s a blur of approaching Company uniforms moving through the trees.

  Megs tenses beside me. I look for familiar Naut faces above the uniforms of the green robes’ enemy. There’s one. He used to work in the Control Room. A flat line of fear has replaced Ike’s usually sleazy grin.

  I was right. Relief chases the last of my doubts away. The ship’s on this island.

  Four Nauts go past us. When it’s silent again Megs moves to stand. “There should be thirteen,” I whisper.

  We wait a few minutes more in silence but nobody else comes down the trail. From below we hear the sound of the dinghy engine starting up and then moving away across the water.

  The others look at me to make a decision. Keane glances up at the lightening sky through the fog. “If we wait much longer it’ll be light.”

  I stride ahead. “Stay off the track.”

  I pick my way between trees, looking up the trail and straining to hear anyone else approaching. There’s nothing. The fog increases until we’re more outlines than identifiable people. With no need to talk there’s plenty of thinking time.

  What made the Nauts so afraid?

  I’m sure Maston wasn’t among those fleeing down the mountain but it doesn’t mean we’ve avoided the man in charge. He might be waiting ahead.

  Streaks of gray break up the black sky by the time we approach the top of the mountain. I stumble to stop myself at the edge of the small clearing. My pulse thuds in my ears.

  This is it.

  Nausea squeezes my gut in a nervous fist.

  Where there should be celebration there’s only dread, the dread of trying to explain to a ship full of people they’ve been lied to. Trying to explain why I left. And trying to explain what happened to Zed when I still can’t think about it.

  There are no signs of guards or any other people, just a heavy metal door in the rock. It squats beneath a serrated overhang, deep in the night shadows and fog. The thick trees have been cleared, leaving a kind of undulating meadow around it. The long grasses are filled with flowers. Despite the fog and the dark, the smudges of color are undeniable. Yellow flowers.

  “Bush poppies,” Toby says, stopping beside me in the shelter of the last tree.

  Keane and Megs don’t say anything but Megs’ slender hand slips into mine. She’s warm and real. Even though I know now Asher’s only feet away, I cling on for a last touch before everything goes to hell.

  “That’s the door.” My observation is unnecessary but I need to say something and ‘I told you so’ seems a little childish. Part of me can’t believe it’s real, even though I have memories to tell me so. The simmering anger against the Company bubbles like bile into the back of my throat.

  Keane runs his eye over the layout of the space. I know he’s thinking about the killing zone between the trees and the safety of the door. “We’ll need reinforcements.”

  But I never planned to stop here.

  “The door isn’t closed properly.” I point to the seal that sits out a finger’s width from the flush rock face.

  Megs’ fingers tighten in mine. “We don’t know what’s in there.”

  “I do.” I tug my fingers free. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does to let her go. I couldn’t hold on forever.

  “We’re not going any further.” Keane speaks for all three.

  Megs and Toby move to his side, leaving me alone closest to the edge of the clearing. I’m reminded that they might have lent me a robe but I am not one of them. I belong with those on the ship.

  “My people are inside.” I take a deep breath and smell smoke. “There’s a fire.” The cramp in my gut becomes painful. “There’s a fire and that door’s the only way out. No wonder the Nauts ran.”

  Keane stares at the door, sniffing the air, but he doesn’t take a single step in that direction. “They probably have it under control. No one else has followed.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t you get it? They think they’re on a ship. There’s nowhere to go.” I strain to listen. “Did you hear a scream?”

  I’ve taken two steps into the open. No one joins me but they don’t try to stop me either. I glance back. “It’s probably better I go alone.”

  Megs stares at me with an unreadable expression. But I can’t worry about her now. She chose to stand with Keane.

  Keane looks toward where the sun will rise in less than an hour. “We’ll wait as long as possible.”

  “Thank you.” I don’t know whether I’m talking about them waiting, or the memories, or the robe but he seems to understand.

  “Hurry,” whispers Megs.

  My head down and heart galloping, I cross the meadow at a crouching run. I dodge and weave, reminded of the way I flew in the warehouse game. I’m braced for shouts or shots or something but my feet squishing on the damp grass is the only sound. I’m breathing heavily when I reach the door. I glance back to where the others wait in the shadows but am unable to see them.

  Regret lances through me. I might never see Megs again and I didn’t even say goodbye. I lift my hand in farewell but there’s no movement to indicate they saw. Or that they’re even still waiting there as promised.

  The smell of smoke is stronger here and it’s definitely coming from behind the door. There’s no obvious handle. The panel set into the rock face has a familiar ID swipe mechanism. But it’s slightly ajar.

  I manage to slide my fingers along the edge and pry it open further.

  Smoke drifts out, catching the early morning breeze. I drag the heavy door wider and step into the darkness, picturing the layout from when I was last here. The pain of the procedure to wipe my memories has left this time a little blurred. If I didn’t need to find my way, I’d be happy to leave these memories permanently buried.

  I went to the Nauts for change. Maston encouraged me, and when the moment came it was Davyd who led me to the Control Room and praised my courage.

  I asked questions, of course. But the answers were caught up in promises of secrecy and Maston telling me he was protecting me for my own good. I hate now how important and special he made me feel. I don’t know what I expected. Another ship, a chance to petition all thirteen Nauts? I don’t even know how Zed even managed to follow but he was the most brilliant kid I ever met.

  Maston opened the door and the natural light and the lush green hurt my eyes, but before that it was darkness and noise and a narrow twisting path between pumps and wires.

  Now, the throb of what I once believed was the ship’s engine fills the darkness ahead. Following instinct and scra
ps of memory, I let the door close behind me but prevent it clicking completely shut in case I need to leave fast. I step forward, turning sideways to squeeze between two huge vents, alert in case someone comes from the other side. First it’s left, and then right, and then left again along a path that isn’t really there. It lies between what’s probably nothing more exciting than the ventilation systems for the levels below.

  When Maston first led me this way I commented on how big the ship’s engines were. He’d laughed. I guess living in a mountain for three generations was pretty funny to someone from the Company.

  Here the smoke mingles with the warm oily smell from the machines. It’s noisy enough to drown any sounds beyond. It’s warm but not the heat from a raging inferno. The sprinkler systems so carefully maintained after the fire in Manufacturing must be working.

  I drop the ground at the sound of a door being flung open and the accompanying burst of light. The thudding of my heart matches the throb of the machines around me. There are scrambled voices for a second then, as fast as it opens, it closes again and the darkness returns. My steps slow. I edge toward where the light came from. Through the door are the Naut quarters but there was something more familiar about the woman’s voice.

  I replay the moment in my mind. The voice was older, about Mother’s age but not her. Someone I know.

  Not my mother but Asher’s. Elex. I’m sure it was her and she said, “Not here.”

  What is a Lifer doing in the Naut quarters? Who is she looking for?

  Zed. It has to be. She’s looking for her son.

  I freeze between two racks of wires. I press backwards to disappear against a hard metal shelf, even though there’s no one in here to see me. The vibrations of the pump behind me reach deep into my chest and find a rhythm with my panting breaths. I know what happened to him. I was the last to see his body after I stripped off his clothes and left him submerged in a shallow pond. How can I face this woman?

  My nails bite into my palms as my hands form useless fists. The anger inside me has no outlet. It’s directed at me. But there is no going back.

  I force my feet to move. First left and then right. Step by painful step I approach the door. There’s no panel or special lock here. The metal handle’s cold to touch but gives easily under pressure. There’s a click and the door seal breaks.

  I blink at the light as I open the door a crack. My nose presses to the edge and I peer into the short hallway beyond. There’s a blur of movement. Navy uniforms mostly. More Lifers in the Naut quarters.

  There’s no sign of the Nauts in their Company clothes.

  There’s hustle and activity but no panic. The smoke seems to dissipate as I watch. Whatever caused the fire must be under control now. I scan the people who walk past, looking for a Fishie or at least a familiar face. I’ve given up expectation of seeing a Naut. The four who fled down the trail must have been the only ones on duty. And then I see her.

  Asher.

  She’s not the girl I remember. Not the same as the girl I’ve loved since before I knew the difference between girls and boys or Lifers and Fishies. Something about her has changed. It’s not the flowing white dress clinging to her body where I’ve only seen her in navy before, or the bruise under her eye, but the way she holds her head. There’s command in her voice when she barks an order at a passing Lifer.

  The girl whose voice was strong enough to penetrate the procedure Maston performed on my brain is in charge here.

  Then, inexplicably, she looks toward where I hide behind the crack in the door to the engine room. My hand tightens on the handle but I don’t move. There’s no way she should be able see me here in the darkness. But her eyes widen and the color drains from her high cheekbones.

  “Samuai.” My name is a silent cry on her pink lips.

  And then she’s stumbling straight for me on bare, blue-swirled feet just like her brother’s. The feet I left beneath the water.

  My gut twists.

  The pressure on my chest reminds me of the force on my brain when Keane gave me back my memories. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t think. I simply stand and watch.

  She’s moving closer. There’s a single tear on her cheek and her eyes shine brighter than any stars I saw in the city. I feel the sting of matching tears in my own. I never thought I would see this girl again.

  The heavy door swings open beneath my hand as though on the lightest breeze. I don’t care about warning anyone, or the Company, or what has happened to give the servants control. I just need to hold this girl in my arms again.

  She fits perfectly. My arms go around her like they remember how it used to be.

  “Samuai. Samuai.” She whispers my name over and over in the lilting way it was meant to be said. She looks up at me. Her fingertips brush the orange stubble on my head. “Your hair…I can’t believe it’s really you.”

  “I’m here.”

  There’s a booted step behind me, at the doorway I just came out through. My hands drop from Asher and I turn with her still half in my arms.

  Megs stands in the doorway to the engine room with darkness behind. “This is why you didn’t want us to come with you.”

  More guilt adds to the weight inside me. “It’s not like that.”

  Her gaze skips over Asher who’s still buried against my chest. One eyebrow arches. “Really?”

  Megs’ presence must penetrate Asher’s shock. She looks up at the other girl and then edges away from me, crossing her arms across her body. “Who’s she?”

  I get her confusion. She believes we’re on a ship and strangers are not in her life experience.

  My hand reaches out to comfort her and Megs’ lips flatten. I bring my hands together instead. Two brilliant girls and neither of them will be mine once they know the truth.

  I breathe in smoke and Asher and Megs and try to get the words in the right order.

  “Asher, meet Megs. She’s from Earth.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  [Asher]

  “She’s from Earth?” I repeat Samuai’s statement to make sure I heard him correctly. His once familiar voice now stretches the vowels in a way similar to the girl’s in the doorway.

  A stranger.

  I don’t know whether to stare at the living ghost of the boy I’d given up for dead or the girl he’s brought back from the grave with him.

  Earth? It’s impossible…unless the government sent another ship after the Pelican.

  “Yes.” He stands awkwardly between us. “It’s hard to explain.” He looks past me toward the Control Room where people are trying to understand the ships’ systems now that there are no Nauts to run things. “What happened here?”

  “Rebellion. Revolution. More importantly,” I peer into the darkness behind the girl where there should only be engines to run the ship. “Where’s my little brother?”

  Samuai’s clasped hands grip each other so tight the knuckles whiten but he doesn’t answer.

  “Where’s Zed?”

  The girl by the door looks from me to Samuai. “The boy in the pond?”

  I know a pond is a small pool of water from history lessons but we have nothing like that here. Zed can’t swim. What would he be doing in a pond? “Samuai?”

  His name comes out strangled. The hope that flared within me at the sight of him fades.

  There’s a screech behind me. I don’t turn to see Lady running. She passes me with her elbows flapping with joy. Then she takes her boy in a tearful embrace. “My baby,” she croons over and over. She touches his face, his arms, and his legs like she wants to make sure he’s not an apparition.

  Red blooms in the tips of Samuai’s ears but he suffers the maternal affection, holding his mother close for a minute and calming her tears. “Don’t cry, Mother.”

  Her sobs only increase. “I never gave up hope.”

  I feel Davyd stop behind me. As usual my whole body is attuned to his presence.

  �
�The prodigal son returns,” he murmurs for my ears only.

  And then my mother’s with us. No flapping run like Lady, but an energized stride across the wooden floors. “Zed?” The hope in her voice hurts my heart.

  Tears I don’t want to cry burn my eyes. I blink hard to get myself under control. Surely Samuai would have told us good news by now. I take Mother’s trembling hand in mine.

  “Samuai was about to tell us.”

  Everyone looks at the boy we believed was dead. His gaze skims me and Mother and then lands somewhere on the floor.

  “He didn’t make it.”

  Mother convulses silently at my side. My strong Mother sways and it’s only through clinging to my hand that she stays on her feet.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I clench my free hand into a fist to prevent closing the distance between us and shaking him by the shoulders. Davyd’s hand brushes the small of my back. Supporting, taunting. I don’t know anymore.

  And I definitely don’t know this orange-haired boy Samuai’s become.

  The girl, Megs, moves to his side in silent support. Her body angles to his, showing they’re close. Their unspoken communication confirms it. The hot shaft of jealousy through my chest takes me breath. It’s crazy I’ve grieved for Samuai. I should have let him go. Hours ago I enjoyed kissing his brother.

  The room spins. I close my eyes.

  When I open them, Samuai’s head is up and he’s looking at me with his warm brown eyes awash with tears and pain. “I’m so sorry. Maston decided he’d seen too much.”

  “Maston?” Mother’s question is raw and filled with anger. She’s shaking with it.

  Samuai nods. “Zed followed us. There was—” he hesitates. “There was nothing I could do.”

  “Sure.” Davyd’s word is no more than a whisper but it’s clear to me.

  Samuai might have changed, but he liked Zed, I’m sure he did, and the pain in his eyes is real. “What did he see?”

  “The truth.” Samuai hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Beyond the machines is another door.”

  “Where does it lead?” Davyd speaks for all to hear.

 

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