by Rajan Khanna
He doesn’t say anything, just bears down on me. His face is intense but also strangely emotionless. Calculating.
Then I hear another gunshot. For just a second, Hector’s attention wavers, his eyes flicking up to see what’s beyond me, and in that instant I force his hands to the side and get a punch in on his face, then another one. Then one on his ribs.
I throw all my weight to one side and he tips over. I grab hold of the wrist with the syringe and hold it down. Then Diego is standing over me, his pistol out. “Let go,” I say, and Hector, knowing he’s beaten, lets go of the syringe. I grab it gingerly by the non-pointy end and snap off the needle. Then I pass it to Diego. “You have a pocket you can throw this in?”
He takes it, and I pat Hector down, taking away the knife—a curved, dangerous-looking knife, not the kind of thing I would expect from him.
“It’s too late,” Hector says, his voice flat. “It’s already far too late.”
Diego hands me some rope, which I use to bind his hands. “Where’s Rosie?” I ask.
Diego shrugs. “She wasn’t there when I got around the back.”
Fuck.
“I need you here,” I say. “But—”
“I know,” he says. “I need to go find her.”
Then we haul Hector up and start marching him back to Miranda.
I take a moment to examine my injury. As the adrenaline starts to fade, the pain intensifies. There’s a gash across the very top of my chest, which scraped against the bone. It just missed my neck, which I assume was his original target. The collar of my coat must have deflected it.
“That looks nasty,” Diego says.
“It’ll keep for a minute,” I say. “I’ve got Hector. You should go find Rosie.”
“Are you sure?” Diego asks.
I pull my father’s revolver and hold it close to Hector. “I’m sure,” I say. “If he gives me any trouble, I’ll shoot out one of his kneecaps. And we need to know where Rosie is. I’m starting to think—”
“I know,” Diego says. One big hand massages the back of his neck. “Okay. I’ll go find her.” He takes a quick look at Hector, then tells me, “Good luck.”
“Same to you,” I say. Then, after he goes, I start marching Hector onward, the revolver close at hand.
Hector is silent all the way back.
“She’s where?” There’s this persistent buzzing in my head. A pressure. And the words just aren’t making sense.
“We don’t know where she is, Ben.” Diego’s voice is level, but the look on his face says that things are far from right. It’s tight, worn, and I see echoes of his torture in it.
“What did you do?” I ask, pointing at the third member of our group. Rosie. Her arms are crossed, and she’s leaning back against the wall, not unusual for her, but there’s something more in her posture and her face. Something I’ve never seen before. It looks like shame.
“Answer him,” Diego says, and his voice is steel. No give.
“I went to see Maya,” she says.
The pressure intensifies. “So while your brother and I were risking our lives to talk to Hector, when we could have used backup, backup that we were expecting, you left to go . . . tip off the other person we suspected?” My voice keeps getting louder.
“You suspected,” she says.
I step forward and narrow my eyes. “And how is that position holding up?”
She looks away.
“Stupid,” I say.
She doesn’t respond.
“Tell me what happened with Maya.”
She looks up at Diego, as if for help, but his face is like his voice—hard.
“I told her I needed to talk to her,” she says. Her voice sounds softer than usual. Hesitant. “I felt I owed it to her to let her know that you would be questioning her. I wanted to . . .”
“To what?” Diego asks.
She meets his eyes. “To give her a chance to prove her innocence. To get out ahead of this.”
I cross my arms. “And how did that go?”
Rosie flushes. “She tricked me,” she says. “She kissed me, then . . . she took me by surprise, got the better of me. By the time I recovered, she was gone.”
It smells like bullshit. Little Maya against bad-ass Rosie? I’m about to attack that part of the story but then I catch sight of Diego’s face, see the doubt carved into it. He knows she’s lying, too.
“So she’s, what, somewhere on the island? Or did you loan her the Osprey during this whole encounter?”
Rosie glares at me and steps forward, and I brace for the blow.
Then, “Stop.” Diego. It’s not a shout, but it’s certainly a command. I can almost hear a growl behind it. Rosie freezes. “Ben is not in the wrong here,” he says. “You are.”
She looks up at him, more shame on her face, and something else. Fear?
“Diego,” she says. “I thought I had something good. For the first time in . . . maybe for the first time.”
“I know you wanted this,” he says. “But you got played. It’s as simple as that. A lot of people are hurting right now, and you let one of our best leads slip away.”
“We need to see if we can find her,” I say. “Let the Keepers know. See if we can dig her out.” It shouldn’t be hard. There aren’t too many places she can go. The only place she could swim to would be . . . the small island. Oh God, I think. Alpha.
“We need to find her, fast.”
“I’ll go talk to the Keepers,” Diego says. “Get them out looking for Maya.” He looks at Rosie. “You’re coming with me.”
She nods, her eyes down.
“Make sure you tell them they need to guard Alpha.”
Diego frowns. “The Feral?”
I nod. “That island is mostly deserted now. It wouldn’t be hard for her to sneak onto it and try to break Alpha out.”
“What good would that do?”
“Do you want to find out if a Feral can swim that far?”
“Good point.”
“It may not be her plan, but these people like letting Ferals do their work for them.”
“What will you do?” Diego asks.
“I’m going to make sure our prisoner is secure and get ready to interrogate him.”
We put Hector in one of the quarantine cells because that seemed like the best place for him. Tamoanchan does have a prison, apparently, but that seemed too good for him.
I’m happy to see the two Keepers standing guard outside the cell. I’m surprised to see Miranda. “They let you out?” I ask.
She nods. “I convinced Lewis. The spread of the disease doesn’t seem contained to people who were infected, and I told him I needed to talk to Hector.”
“Right,” I say. Of course she’s the best person to ask him questions. She knows all the right ones. “Sergei?”
She shakes her head.
I don’t press the issue.
“Where are Diego and Rosie?” Miranda asks. “I heard they helped you bring Hector in.”
“Not quite,” I say. I fill her in on what happened, and she spends a good part of the story shaking her head. “You’re okay?” she asks.
I still feel the burning where Hector cut me. “I’m fine,” I say. “One of the Keepers helped bandage me.”
She nods. “So Maya’s still out there?”
“For now,” I say. “We’ll find her.” I try to inject my voice with an optimism I don’t feel.
She looks at the door to the cell. “Then it’s a good thing we have him.”
“Are you up for this?”
She looks back at me, and she looks weary. And far older than I’ve ever seen her look before. “I have to be.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and give it a small squeeze. She reaches up to it with her hand and gives it an answering squeeze for a moment. Then she pulls away and enters the cell.
I wait outside. I’m very bad at waiting, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving Miranda without backup. Other than the Keepers, I mean.
So I wait.
Miranda emerges about an hour later, looking even more tired and worn than when she entered. I look at her, the question plain on my face.
She shakes her head. “He wouldn’t talk.” Her voice doesn’t break, but it’s on the verge.
“Not at all?”
She meets my eyes and hers are bloodshot. “Ben . . .”
“Go take a break,” I say. “Close your eyes for a moment. He’s not going anywhere.”
“Ben, time is running out.”
“I know,” I say. “But you can’t do anything here right now. We’ll figure something else out.” She looks about to protest, but I say, “Go. You’re no use to anyone if you’re dead on your feet.”
She’s silent for a moment, then she nods. “Just a short break.”
I nod and Miranda shuffles off, an invisible weight pressing down on her.
I’m considering going in to interrogate Hector myself when Diego and Rosie show up. After Miranda’s frustration I’m hoping for a win, but then I catch sight of Diego’s face. It’s rigid.
“What happened?” I ask.
Diego glares at Rosie, and Rosie looks quickly away. Uh oh.
“Maya . . . got away.”
“What do you mean, ‘got away’?”
“While the Keepers were combing the island for her, she was sneaking onto a ship, the Brightwing, and using it to escape the island.”
“She stole an airship?” I ask.
Diego nods.
“How did they not shoot her down?”
“She had valid codes,” Diego says.
“How the hell?” I ask.
Diego shakes his head and rubs at his beard. “She obviously planned this for a while. Who knows what she’s been secretly doing over the past weeks?” He shoots another glare at Rosie, and she looks like right here is the last place she wants to be.
I think back to my run with Maya, to the cache—she was there to see how everything operated—the island’s network, its infrastructure. All she needed to do was charm or sweet-talk someone, and she’d have everything she needed to get a decent-enough lead. Unless . . .
I look at Rosie. I don’t see her smile all too often, but right now she just looks miserable. She’s always been one of those people who looks like she belongs everywhere. Until now. I might believe a lot, but I can’t bring myself to believe that she set Maya up to escape. Maya was smart enough to figure that out on her own.
Doesn’t mean I’m any less pissed at Rosie.
“Does the Council know?” I ask.
“Yes,” Diego says. “They’re meeting right now to see if we should consider evacuation.”
“With this disease still in play?”
“They’re scared,” Diego says. Another look in Rosie’s direction. “Can you blame them? Even if the Cabal didn’t know our location before, they do now.”
Rosie snaps, whirling on him. “You think I wanted this?” She throws both arms in the air. “She betrayed me, too!”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Diego says.
Rosie’s eyes go wide and she starts to open her mouth, but I interrupt. “We don’t have time for this,” I say. “If Maya’s gone, then all we have is Hector. And we need to get what we need from him.”
“Did anyone talk to him?” Diego asks.
“Miranda,” I say. “Only he’s not talking.”
“Then maybe we should make him talk,” Diego says. There’s something dark and dangerous in his voice.
“How?” I ask. “You want to beat on him?”
Diego looks at me, and there’s something chilling in his eyes. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”
I get it. I do. They tortured Diego for days. I bet he has nightmares about it every night. I bet he still feels the pain both from the wounds that haven’t healed and from the ones that never will. He wants to deal it back. Try to gain back that ground. Try to be the torturer instead. I might feel the same. But . . .
It wasn’t that long ago that Captain Danning had me strapped to a table, trying to make me feel like I was drowning.
“I don’t think that’s the way to go.”
“Why not?” Diego asks. “It’s what they would do.”
“It’s what the Valhallans would do. What they have done. He’s not one of them.”
“No,” Diego says. “He’s something worse.”
I agree with him there.
“And what if he doesn’t talk? Or he gives us bad information? Or if you damage him so badly that he dies on us? What then?”
Diego shrugs. “He’s not talking now, so what difference does it make? At least this way we have a shot.” He fixes me with a stare. “What would you suggest?”
“We make a deal.”
“What?”
“These are manipulators, dealers. We give him something that appeals to him. Some kind of deal that gives him something in return for what we want.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Diego’s expression is incredulous. “He infected our people, including Sergei, your friend. Miranda’s friend. And you want to give him something?”
“What’s all the yelling about,” Miranda asks, walking up to us.
“That was quick,” I say.
“I couldn’t,” she says. “What’s the matter?” she asks Diego.
Diego shakes his head. “Ask Ben. He seems to have lost his mind.”
“We’re talking about how we can get Hector to talk,” I say. I’ve managed to stay calm all this time, but I can feel myself getting angrier the more Diego pushes. “Diego wants to torture him.”
Miranda looks at Diego in surprise. “Really?”
Diego crosses his arms, nods. “I think it’s our best bet. We need information fast. Sergei isn’t getting better, and the Council is talking about evacuation, and this disease is still spreading.”
“No,” Miranda says. “We’re not torturing him. It’s not right.”
“Fuck what’s right,” Diego says. “Nothing about this is right. We don’t have the luxury anymore of thinking in those terms. This is what they would do. If we’re not willing to use the same tools, then we’re definitely going to lose.”
Miranda shakes her head. “I would think that you’d be the last person to want this.”
“Why? Because they tortured me? They shot Ben, and he’s still willing to shoot back at them. How is this different?”
“Because we’re better than that,” she says. “If we torture him, how are we different from them?”
“That’s a stupid argument,” Diego says. “We know what we’re about. What we want. What we stand for. This is just a tool. For a very specific purpose. I’m not even saying to kill him. Just get what we need.”
“No,” Miranda says.
“And you get to decide?” Diego says.
“I’m the one researching this disease,” she says. “I’m the only one here who knows what information we need.”
“Well, I think this is bigger than you,” Diego says. “And I think maybe Lewis will be interested in this.” He moves to the door, pauses after opening it. “You know I’m right. Deep down inside, you know. You just don’t want to be the one who does it. So don’t. Let me.” Then he leaves.
Miranda lets out an angry sigh and shakes her head.
I turn to Rosie. “You were awfully quiet during all that. No opinion?”
“Oh, I have an opinion,” Rosie says. “I agree with Diego. Only . . .”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want him doing that.”
“Interrogating Hector?”
She nods. “You haven’t seen him. The nightmares. How it twists him up. I’m afraid . . . I’m afraid that he would lose himself. That he would go too far and then . . . not forgive himself. I won’t see him go through something like that again. The regret. The punishment.” She tilts her chin in the air. “I won’t.”
“Well, hopefully none of us will have to see that,” Miranda says. “Although I don’t like the thoug
ht of Lewis getting involved.”
“We should go talk to him, too,” I say. “Get ahead of this. It will look better if we can present him other options at the same time rather than after the fact, when he’s had time to set his opinions.”
“Good idea,” Miranda says. “What are our other options?”
“We appeal to them as equals. Convince them to treat us as such. That’s what my gut tells me. You met some of them up on Gastown—what do you think?”
Miranda nods. “It could work. But it has to be done just right.”
We push out into the daylight, walking in the direction of Lewis’s office. I reach out for Miranda’s hand, try to grab it, but she pulls it away and wraps it around her body. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s just with Sergei . . .” Her voice catches and she suppresses a sob. “He’s not doing well.”
“We’ll find something out,” I say.
Miranda sniffs. “I almost want Lewis to make us do what Diego wants,” she says. “If only because it might actually work.”
“Well, after what Rosie said . . .” I break off and look around. “Wait, where’s Rosie?” A moment later it hits me, and I panic and run back to where we’re keeping Hector, Miranda on my heels.
I burst into the room to catch Rosie punching Hector in the face. When his head lifts back up, a thread of sticky blood drips from his mouth. His face still looks flat, but he smiles a bit. I run and grab Rosie, pull her back.
“Let me go!”
“No,” I say. I’m aware that she could probably kick my ass right now, but I’m hoping she won’t.
Hector spits on the ground. “Animals,” he says. “Thinking with your fists, as usual. That’s why you’ll lose.” He spits again. “You’re barely a step above Ferals.”
Miranda moves forward, assessing Hector. An area around his eye and cheek is red, already swelling. And the busted lip. His blood is pooled on the floor. Miranda is staring at it. I get the chills. I know he’s clean. That Miranda tested him. But I’m just used to staying away from blood. And his is all out in the open.
Miranda reaches into a pocket and pulls out a syringe.
“Miranda, what are you doing?” I ask.
“Help me,” she says. “Quickly.”
I don’t know what the hell is going on, but this is Miranda and there’s no one else I trust more on the planet, so I do what she says. “Hold him and roll up his arm.”