Tyche's Fury
Page 8
“No,” said Grace. Two hours ago she wouldn’t have said it, but Megumi had wanted to touch her, and had called her little Grace. And those two things were unique, and mighty, and Grace felt like she might have made a friend by buying ice cream, even if someone else had to die. So, she stood there, and said, “No, not without you.”
A look came across Megumi’s face, a dawning realization that said she wasn’t getting out that easy. That in order for Grace to live, Megumi needed to live too. Megumi groaned as she pushed herself upright, a bloody smear remaining on the wall beside her. Together, they staggered toward the air car.
There was a rapid fire series of explosions behind them, heat lapping at Grace’s back. She turned as much as she could with Megumi’s good arm over her shoulders, and saw the street behind her engulfed in flame. The flame didn’t have the forced brightness of the plasma fire Grace had just seen. It was outside a stall that promised cheap noodles. Something in there had exploded, perhaps a power cell for cooking, or if the place was old enough, a real gas cylinder. Back that way was Iwao, and Grace was wondering if she’d see him again as a door banged open beside them. Iwao staggered out, suit smoking, a manic grin on his face. The grin fell as he saw Megumi. He took in Megumi’s arm around Grace’s shoulders, the blood covering both of them, and then he turned to look at the air car. “You … stayed,” he said. Like it was an idea that didn’t fit in his mind, it was more of a question than a statement.
“Yes,” said Grace. “Megumi’s hurt.” Which seemed a stupid thing to say, because of course Megumi was hurt, but despite her training this was not what she thought she was getting out of bed to face this morning.
“No other Gushiken would have stayed,” said Iwao. Megumi hissed with more than pain, and Iwao seemed to remember himself, the burning fires behind Grace reflecting in his glasses. He gave a bow. “I apologize. I misspoke.”
“We need to run,” said Megumi, in no state to run.
When they reached the air car, the safety of ascent beneath them, Iwao went to work with a small first aid kit on Megumi. He staunched blood as the car clawed the clouds for home. He said, “Fifty caliber, old weapon, no wonder it made it in under the scans.”
Megumi’s hand clawed his, her eyes bright. “We made it out,” she said.
“Yes,” he said.
“No,” she said, some last vestige of strength pushing her out of her seat to lean forward. Her good hand grabbed for Iwao’s. “We made it out. Not her.”
Iwao’s eyes moved to Grace, then back to Megumi. “He will know. He always knows.”
“Not if he never has suspicion to look,” she said. Then she leaned back, strength gone, as unconsciousness took her.
Iwao kept working, not looking at Grace. “Do you understand, Grace?” The sweet-sour smell was gone, replaced by something that smelled like fear.
Grace looked at Megumi, who had called her little Grace, and who hadn’t wanted to touch her until she was scared Grace might die. She thought about her father and his lessons. “Yes,” she said.
• • •
Her father smiled as they exited the air car, rubbing a smear of drying blood on Grace’s face. He watched as Iwao took Megumi inside. “What was the lesson today, Grace?”
Grace had thought about it in the air car ride here. “There is danger everywhere, even when it looks safe.” She wanted to say, People can die for no reason. Grace wanted to say, Megumi is brave, because she wants to hide little Grace, the compassionate one, from even you. She wanted to scream at her father, You knew! But that wouldn’t bring the other girl back to life. Grace hid all of this behind her mask, the one she’d built for conversations like this.
Her father Kazuo Gushiken nodded. “Yes,” he said. “What else?”
Grace knew she should have kept her mouth shut, but before she knew it her chin jutted forward. “Ise is a city full of people who fear you.”
“No,” said her father. “It is a city empty of people who fear me.” He turned and walked away, leaving Grace near the blood-stained air car. He turned one last time on the edge of the landing pad. “This is why, Grace. It is to protect you from the evil in the world.”
She watched him go, hating him. Grace had hated him before, but it seemed more important now. While she rarely left the grounds, she knew more than the empty streets of Ise were outside. She scuffed her shoe against the ceramicrete landing pad, thinking, Ise is a prison. This whole place is a prison, made to contain me. She thought of the noise that buffeted against her from people, and wondered if the prison was to protect her, or cage her.
The result was the same. She was a prisoner of her own mind, because — as her father said — she was broken. Grace’s gifts didn’t work right. She couldn’t control them, and she couldn’t do what he did. The only good part of that is that he didn’t seem to be able to use his gifts on her, or not with ease.
Grace hated her father, but she hated herself more for being scared. People out there wanted her dead. Even those in the city of Ise were willing to risk his wrath to get her. She couldn’t leave, because without Megumi and Iwao, she would be dead.
She wanted to scream, but the mask held. For now.
• • •
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