Johann seemed to interpret their silence as disappointment and slapped the table. “Look, it’s not like we have a choice. If the ship was fully functional, you could stay, sure. But this is only a trial run designed to hold five people for a couple of months. We’ve already had to recalculate our food production goals to compensate for your unexpected arrival. And it’ll only get worse the longer you linger.”
“Johann, please.” Unathi held her hand out towards him.
“I’m not wrong. They have to leave.”
Niall fidgeted, his fingers running along the edge of his saucer. “I—”
“Stay out of this, Niall.”
Unathi’s voice deepened. “Johann.”
“We can make room for them.” Colour spread across Niall’s face. “Sure, it’ll be a pinch at first, but it’ll be nothing compared to what’s waiting for them out there. Or the risk they took to get here.”
Johann slouched, looking thunderous. “Niall, I swear—”
“No, let me talk.” He took a shallow, harried breath. “They travelled across the country to get that USB to us. I’d be ashamed to turn them away now.”
“Don’t you dare take the moral high ground. She gave her terms for the trade.” He pointed at Clare. “The USB in exchange for saving her friend’s life. We delivered. Deal over.”
The flush of colour spread down Niall’s neck and over his ears. “I can’t believe you’re going to be this heartless.”
“Honestly? I wish I could be the good guy here. I wish I could put out a broadcast giving lost souls our address and inviting hundreds of them in. But what would that achieve? We’d starve within a week. This place was set up to last us just four months. The water purifier is only a temporary model. And two additional people might not seem like many, but it’s nearly a fifty percent increase on our load, and honestly—this place isn’t built for that. Not short term, not long term.”
West cleared his throat. He looked sheepish. “I feel horrible saying this… but I think I have to side with Johann. When we figured out what was happening outside, we made an agreement. We wouldn’t take on new souls, no matter who found us or how much they begged.”
“Because it would be a slippery slope,” Johann said. “And because we can’t afford to take risks. Especially not now that we have the code, which may be the world’s last hope for survival.”
Niall opened his mouth, but Unathi held out her hand, silencing them both. “I feel it is extremely crass to debate this in front of our guests. Let’s take our discussion down the hall. Dorran, Clare, would you excuse us a moment?”
“Sure,” Clare managed.
The room filled with rustling as the small group gathered their papers and stood. Becca closed her laptop and held it close to her chest as she followed her peers. They filed out of the meeting room, and Clare watched them through the glass walls as they disappeared down the hall.
The silence following the team’s departure seemed deafening. Clare, exhausted, stared at the empty room, then she turned to Dorran. “How are you feeling?”
“Ha.” He leaned one elbow on the table as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I am still reeling. How about you?”
“Same.”
They were quiet as they stared at the empty seats. Noises echoed from down the hall. A fist slammed into something solid as voices rose then fell.
“It’s… relieving to be here.” He smiled. “To be able to sit without worrying about what might be coming up behind us and to be able to eat without being concerned about where our next meal might come from.”
“Yeah.” It was the first time in a long while that Clare had felt able to let her guard down. It was a strange sensation. “Would you want to stay here for the long term? Assuming they let us?”
He kept his expression guarded, but she spotted an emotion flitting through his eyes. She thought they might be on the same mental track, but Dorran hesitated on voicing it, so she spoke first. “Because I kind of want to go home.”
Relief spread across his features. “Do you?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t know exactly when the emotion had grown, but she was homesick for Winterbourne. The bunker was modern and pleasant. It had hot water on tap. The occupants seemed decent. But Clare felt as though she didn’t belong there.
Winterbourne, on the other hand, was a perpetual struggle. But it was their struggle. She and Dorran had built it up, reinforced it, and protected it. Winterbourne felt more like home than anywhere she had stayed since then.
And it might be important to salvage it, she thought. With its garden, it might be a valuable stronghold. It was surrounded by forests owned by the hollows, but once the concealed passageways were closed, it could be defensible and sustainable. Not just for them but for potentially hundreds of others.
“Yeah,” Clare said. “I’m ready to go home.”
Dorran’s hand wrapped around the back of her head. He pulled her closer so that he could kiss her. “I love you.”
“Hah. Love you too.”
Dorran finished the kiss by resting his cheek against hers. It felt good to be so connected to him. Clare couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Should we tell our hosts our decision before they tear each other apart?”
In the distance, voices swelled again. Dorran chuckled. “I think we had better.”
It wasn’t hard to find the research team. Clare and Dorran followed the voices down the hallway and discovered a smaller room at its end. Based on the comfy chairs and TV, it was intended as a recreational area. The team stood about, some with arms crossed, others with hands on hips, and Becca nestled in the corner, staring at her laptop as the others bickered.
They fell silent as Clare pushed open the door. She gave a quick smile. “Hey. We just wanted to let you know—we’re leaving.”
Unathi, the closest, cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I don’t want you to think you’re unwelcome here. We aren’t intending to kick you out so unceremoniously.”
“It’s fine.” Clare looked up at Dorran, and he matched her smile. “We never planned to stay here once we unloaded the USB. Both of us are ready to go home.”
“Oh.” Johann seemed relieved; he ran his hands through his hair. “That’s good. That’s really good.”
Niall crossed to them and placed a hand on Clare’s arm. “Are you absolutely sure? I hope you’re not leaving because of Johann and West, because the rest of us want you here. We could make it work.”
“Thanks, but no, we made up our minds independent of all of that. But I appreciate your support.”
He nodded then glanced at Dorran. “At least tell me you’re not leaving immediately. Your body was shutting down less than two days ago, and I’m worried about any possible side effects that the thanites can’t handle. I want to give you a final check-over before you go.”
Dorran didn’t look especially enthused by the suggestion, but Clare nodded eagerly. “Could you? Just to make sure?”
“That’s a good idea and possibly a good compromise.” Unathi shot Johann a glance for his approval. “Stay for a few days while you regain your strength. We’ll help you equip for your journey back home, wherever it is. I’m sure we can do at least that much for them.”
Johann gave a short nod. “Okay.”
“That’s settled. Let’s say you have two additional days with us.” Unathi’s sharp eyebrows relaxed a little, and she rolled her shoulders back. “You can sleep in the room we brought you to on arrival. It is one of the bunker’s two medical bays, but I trust it will be comfortable enough for you. Feel free to move about the ship and enjoy its amenities. I only ask that you don’t touch anything that controls the system without one of us accompanying you. With that settled, shall we see about that check-up?”
Chapter Forty-One
Niall kept a quick pace as he led them towards his office. He seemed equal parts enthused and nervous to be tasked with monitoring Dorran, and he kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure they were following
. Unathi trailed behind them, holding a journal in one hand as she scanned her notes.
“I think I said before, we don’t really have advanced tests available,” Niall said, sending them a meek smile. “The final version of this place would have CT scans and blood test facilities and the works, but most of the medical section is just empty rooms right now. If anything serious happened to us down here, we were supposed to, well, go to a proper hospital. But I can still do a physical and, I don’t know, give you plasters? I have lots of those. Some of them have kittens printed on them.”
“The finest medical treatment the country has to offer.” Clare laughed but broke off early. The joke held a little too much truth.
“Here we are.” Niall pushed open a door and stepped back so that they could move inside. It looked nearly identical to every GP’s office Clare had ever been in. A desk held a computer opposite two chairs, with an examination table on a wall covered with anatomical posters. There was evidence that it had been recently set up: the wall’s paint was still pristine, and the furniture was clean and modern.
Clare had expected Unathi to split away, but she followed them into the room, closing the door after herself. Clare thought she could guess why: she and Dorran were still virtual strangers. Unathi didn’t know them well enough to be comfortable leaving them alone with one of her staff.
“Have a seat,” Niall said, indicating the examination table.
Dorran sent it one sceptical look then opted to sit in the chair beside Clare instead.
Poor Dorran. You’re not used to being fussed over, are you? She found his hand and squeezed. He responded with a tight smile. Well, there’s no escaping it as long as I’m around, so you need to get used to it.
Niall moved through the exam methodically, noting down every detail, from Dorran’s blood pressure to his temperature. He spent extra time on the cuts and bite wounds, checking the stitches and re-dressing them. For the first time, Clare had a clear look at the upper-arm injury Beth had inflicted.
It was a map of vicious red skin and black threads. Her vision blurred, and her stomach threatened to overturn.
“Is it causing you any discomfort?” Niall asked, wrapping fresh bandages around the injury.
“None.” Dorran’s expression was calm, matching his words, but Clare knew how good he was at masking pain.
“I can give you a stronger set of painkillers if—”
“The current ones are working fine.”
Clare struggled to breathe naturally. “Maybe you should take them anyway. It won’t hurt—”
Dorran’s eyebrows rose as he smiled at her, amused. “I promise, I am not being stubborn for the sake of it. I feel some stiffness, but the current painkillers are doing their job perfectly.”
Clare nodded, praying he was being honest.
“Well, I’ll give you this just in case.” Niall fished one of the kitten-print plasters out of his desk drawer and stuck it over the bandages.
Except for the bite marks, the findings were good: Dorran’s temperature was still a little low, but most other metrics were within normal ranges.
“Honestly, I don’t think there’s much I can do except trust that the thanites are repairing you correctly.” Niall shrugged as he sat back in his chair. “I have the feeling that trying to mess with what’s happening will just cause more problems. So, uh, let me know if anything changes before you leave.”
“Thank you.” Dorran zipped his shirt back up and rose.
Unathi, who had remained nearly forgotten at the back of the room, stepped forward. “Is he well enough to work?”
Dorran tensed. Clare knew him too well to think he was bristling at the threat of work; instead, he was bristling at the insinuation that he couldn’t.
Niall didn’t notice. He was still focussed on furiously scribbling in his notebook. “I mean, I think so. Nothing too strenuous, but some mild exercise would be fine.”
“Excellent.” Unathi took off her glasses and plucked a cloth out of her pocket to polish the lenses. “I’m going to make you two earn your keep. You’ll help Johann in the garden this afternoon.”
Niall’s voice caught as his head snapped up. “What? They only just arrived. Can’t you give them a chance to relax for one day?”
“Don’t worry, gardening sounds great.” Clare looked up at Dorran for his confirmation and was answered with a gentle nod. She was fairly certain there was subtext to Unathi’s words. It wasn’t a demand; it was an attempt to help. Putting them to work would give them a valuable distraction from recent traumas.
And Clare was excited to be in a garden again. She missed Winterbourne’s, and a part of her ached to know it must have died without anyone there to water and heat it. Gardening wouldn’t just be fun; it would be healing.
“Excellent.” Unathi replaced her glasses. “We still have a few hours before dinner. Come with me.”
They left Niall in his office and returned to the maze of hallways. They hadn’t long passed the medical bay where Clare and Dorran had been sleeping when Unathi hesitated, glancing towards a door inset into the wall. A small sign attached to the front read, Maintenance.
Unathi cleared her throat. “I should advise you, some of your supplies are being stored in our containment room.”
“Oh?” As far as Clare could tell, it was just a regular storage closet.
“While you were both recovering, Johann went through your vehicle to ensure there were no threats present. Your food and clothing were left untouched, but anything deemed a weapon was confiscated. They will be held here, under lock, until you are ready to depart.”
“I guess that’s fair. We won’t need weapons as long as the hollows can’t get into the ship.”
Unathi’s shoulders relaxed. “Precisely. This building was designed to prevent people from seizing power through violence; excluding the rifle, which is also kept in containment, you’ll be hard-pressed to find anything more dangerous than a kitchen knife.”
Clare couldn’t stop a faint sense of apprehension creeping through her, considering what had happened the last time they had entered a research centre with no way to defend themselves.
This is different. They’re helping us, unlike Ezra. They extended their trust to let us inside; we have to trust them in return.
Johann didn’t seem thrilled to have company when Unathi dropped Clare and Dorran off at the entrance to the gardens, but he limited his objections to a deepened scowl as he keyed a number into a large double door. The metal panels slid back, and Clare took a deep breath.
The room was larger than a football field. Dirt paths criss-crossed between a variety of crops. Long-forgotten scents reached her: the densely aromatic compost, the dry, dusty tang of hay, and, almost lost underneath the more dominant scents, something waxy and sweet.
“Bees!” Clare grabbed Dorran’s arm as she craned to see the hives near the left-hand wall. The insects hummed as they crawled through the openings in their boxes, ferrying supplies into their homes.
“Need them for pollination,” Johann muttered. “Though the honey is a bonus.”
Clare couldn’t stop smiling. Of all the things to make her happy, she wouldn’t have expected a hive to achieve it, but her heart ached with joy as she watched the bees swirling in gentle loops as they approached and left their homes. Life was disappearing in every quarter of the still world, and it was a joy to see something thriving.
Johann took gloves off the wall near the door and passed a pair each to Dorran and Clare. “Since Unathi wants you to do something, you’re going to be weeding today. Just weeding. Don’t touch any settings. Don’t touch the watering cans. Don’t pull up anything that isn’t obviously a weed. Our survival depends on you not screwing up our food source, okay?”
“No problem.” Clare pulled her gloves on. She could respect Johann’s defensiveness, and regardless, weeding sounded like a good time to her.
She crouched in a plot of potatoes alongside Dorran, seeking out straggles of grass and
clover to expel. As she did, she scanned the rest of the plants. She counted at least a dozen varieties. Young fruit trees grew along the back wall. The corn had become so tall that it nearly reached the artificial lights above.
“This must have been growing before you entered the bunker,” she said to Johann.
He stood a few paces away, running tests on the soil while he pretended that he wasn’t overseeing their work. He shrugged. “Part of the sustainability trials. The teams that enter the bunker are supposed to survive off the farm. A custodian visits daily any time the bunker is out of use. This field has been rotating crops for nearly three years.”
“Wow.” She shook dirt off the roots of one of the weeds. “That was fortunate.”
“But it’s not enough.” His eyes grew darker as he shook the tube. “All it would take is a blight, a malfunction in the machinery, or a failure in one of our protocols, and we could lose it. We’ve started up a second farm. It’s in a different room, kept a distance from this one, with no cross-contamination of equipment or seeds. And I’m still worried it won’t be enough.”
Clare could understand. Before the stillness, a failed crop meant lost income. In the ship, it literally meant starvation.
“We’re doing what we can,” Johann continued. “Any excess food is being dried or tinned and stored. In another month, the second farm will be producing its own crop. It’s funny. Before this, we were prodding the ship from every angle, trying to find its weaknesses. Now, we’re just praying we don’t encounter any more.”
Dorran made a faint noise. He glanced from Johann to the plants and back, apparently weighing up whether it was safe to speak.
Joahnn frowned at him. “What?”
“You have a case of blight.”
“What?” Johann slammed the test tube back into its box and jogged to Dorran’s side. He bent over one of the potato plants, examining its leaves, then swore under his breath.
“It can be treated—” Dorran broke off as Johann uprooted the growth.
“Nope. Not chancing it.” Johann held the plant like it was a grenade that might explode at any moment. “Change of plans. You’re no longer on weeding duty. Swap out your gloves for a fresh pair and get searching for any more cases. We need to stop this before it spreads.”
Whispers in the Mist: Black Winter Book Three Page 28