"Damned Confederacy couldn't just let me be," Nova muttered.
Her face flushed red, mind racing. This changed everything. Her plan had been so carefully laid out, but she hadn't counted on the Confederacy going to such extremes. It was going to take a miracle to get out of Ankar alive.
"I'll just have to be careful," she said. "I'll do my work at night. I'll keep my knife on me and keep it sharp."
"I'm not sure that will be enough," said Carter.
"It's going to have to be. I don't see us having any other options."
Ringer shook his head. "Wow. You must have really pissed off the Confederacy. I've never heard of them putting a bounty like that on anyone. And we've had some pretty bad sorts in here."
Nova nodded, miserable.
"Ringer will take you to your room. He can't stay there otherwise he'll get a knife to his gut. Just lock your door and don't come out until it's safe. Don't open it for anyone except Ringer, he'll bring you food."
She nodded and stood. Ringer got to his feet beside her and together they walked into the cement building. Both of them kept their eyes roving to either side. They glanced over their shoulders and listened for any kind of attack. For the moment the prisoners were still.
They made it to Nova's room without being killed.
"Lock the door," Ringer said. "Don't do anything stupid."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Nova sighed. "You be careful too. I don't want to get you killed."
"I've survived this long," Ringer said with a shrug.
Nova nodded and closed the door behind him. She locked it and leant back against the cold metal. Debris from the two robots lay scattered across her room. At least she had work here she could do. She'd lose her mind if she had to stay in the tiny cell with nothing.
She knelt on the floor and gathered together the pieces she needed, making a pile of wires and levers. She used the broken microchips from the robots as a control system. They already had receivers so it didn't take much to adjust the frequency.
It took most of that day but by the time evening came, the robot was remote controlled.
Nova grinned as she pushed the joystick forward and the robot trundled to the other side of her cell. It rattled and whirred like a twentieth century engine, but it worked. She shoved her thumb left on the joystick and the robot turned. Its wide arc carried it too slowly and its right side scraped against the side of the cell.
It made a full circle and faced Nova across the dim grunge of her temporary home.
She nodded. One step closer to getting free.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
One week until guard change.
Nova's eyes flew open as thunderous fists pummelled her door, sending deep rumbles through her cell.
"Come out girly, I've got a present for you," an unfamiliar voice sung from the other side.
"Move aside Baz, she's mine. Come out bitch. You're my ticket to freedom."
Nova held her pillow over her head and buried herself deeper into her mattress. Thumping fists and taunting voices filtered through, threatening, cajoling.
She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for sleep that seemed unreachable.
For the last month every night had been the same, and most of the days.
Nova hurled her pillow across the room and sat up on her bed, flipping on a light. It flickered overhead, shining off the completed robots and pieces of scrap metal.
She caught her reflection on a shiny sheet. Red eyes stared back at her from dark circles. Her pale skin clung to her bones and her hollow cheeks looked more like a skull than a face.
"Hunter, this door won't last forever. Why don't you let me in and I'll see that it's quick?"
Nova ran a hand down her forehead and strode to the window. A faint brush of fresh air whispered across her skin, clearing her head. Her eyes stung, aching for sleep. Her hands clenched into fists around the bars of her window. If only she had her plasma pistol…
Something glinted on the ground beneath her cell window.
She frowned, watching the spot. It came again, a little closer, and something else; whispering on the breeze. Nova drew back from the window, and flicked her light switch, plunging the room back into darkness.
She pressed her back against the cold cement wall and peered down into the courtyard below, straining her ears. Every muscle tensed and she stood frozen.
Something rustled below and a voice carried up on the breeze. "Shh. She'll hear us."
"Won't matter if she hears us. You're never going to be able to get up there."
"Back off. I've climbed worse."
"Maybe twenty years ago."
"I said be quiet! You might not care about getting free but some of us do."
The other voice replied but Nova couldn't make out the words. Her stomach tensed and she slid down the wall, hand patting her mattress and coming to rest on her knife. She stood, cold metal reassuring in her palm.
Something scraped and loose cement scattered to the ground below. The first voice cursed and fell silent for a full minute. Then the scrape came again, louder.
Nova crouched beside the window, out of sight, and shifted her grip on her knife. She swallowed, her throat like sandpaper. Why couldn't they just leave her alone?
Two minutes later, a tuft of grey hair appeared level with the window, followed by a lined face and two dark eyes. The man peered into the prison cell, squinting at Nova's bed.
He hooked one arm around the barred window and lifted a long stick with a knife tied to the end. He rested the spear on the window and slid it through, towards Nova's bed.
Nova stood with liquid grace and snatched the stick, ripping it free of the man's grip. She drew it through the window and tossed it to the floor where it clattered on the hard cement. Without stopping, she lunged forward and plunged her knife through the bars, into the man's neck.
His eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped. He glanced down at Nova's arm and let out a flaccid sigh as his grip on the bars loosened.
Nova ripped her blood-covered arm back and stood at the window, legs shoulder-width apart.
The man gasped once and let go of the window. His body plummeted backwards through the night and landed on the ground with a sharp crack.
"Oh, shit," the second voice said from below, followed by retreating footsteps.
Nova peered down into the darkness where a dim silhouette lay mangled on the ground, limbs askew. A darker shadow of blood spread out around the body.
She sighed and wiped her knife clean on an oily rag, shoving it back in her belt. Wilting, she sat on her bed and lay down, glaring up at the ceiling.
A few minutes later the thudding at her door died down, replaced with murmuring voices.
"… Killed him."
"How'd he get in there?"
"Climbed up the outside. Was going to spear her."
"And?"
"I dunno. She must have known it was coming. Slit his throat and let him fall."
The voices faded away and Nova's shoulders loosened. She let her eyes fall closed, hoping for just a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
She needed it. The guards' transporter arrived in just one week.
CHAPTER TWENTY
One week until guard change.
Nova stood at her window, peering out at the darkness. It hadn't taken long for the hammering on her door to start back up again after the assassination attempt.
The dead man below had given her a thought. She needed to get out of her cell, to prepare the final phase of her plan, but she couldn't use the door. Going out through the window hadn't occurred to her until the idiot tried to stab her through it.
She clutched a metal cutter, stolen from one of the labourbots, in one hand and waited for the hammering at her door to reach a crescendo.
When the thuds echoed around her cell and the door threatened to break inwards, she ignited the torch and held it against the bars.
They glowed bright red, heat billowing up and brushing
against her face. Sweat sprung out on her forehead and her lips dried and cracked after just a few minutes, but she kept the trigger down until the slamming on her door faded.
She released the torch and stood tensed, ears straining.
There was still no sign of movement through the window. She doubted anyone would be stupid enough to try that method, at least for a few days.
She took a deep breath and turned for the door. "Given up have you?"
At least seven voices bellowed back and a new rain of fists slammed against her door, rattling the hinges.
She grinned and reignited the torch.
The bars went from red to bright white, at which point Nova turned off the torch, drew back, and slammed her boot against them. They shot out of the window and tumbled down, hitting the ground with a loud clatter.
Nova held her breath and waited. Nothing outside made a noise and the cacophony outside her door didn't change. She placed the torch on the floor and gripped the sides of the window.
Her knife sprouted from her belt as she swung out over the ledge and scraped her boots along the smooth cement to find a foothold. Her boot lodged in and she moved down, finding one hole after another.
The cool wind made her shiver but freedom had never felt so good. She climbed all the way down and hit the ground, falling into a low crouch, eyes and ears straining.
When the guard transporter landed they'd have just six hours to make their escape. She had to be prepared, and that meant reconnaissance.
She pressed her back against the cold wall of the building and held her breath, straining for even the tiniest shuffle. Silence met her.
She pulled a black scrap of material from her pocket and tied it over her head like a hood, hiding her face, before dashing to the next shadow.
She crept out of the courtyard to the winding dirt path that led up to the guards' compound, keeping her head down. A few people glanced up at her but their gazes slid right off. She went unrecognized.
The unused road had deep holes but a clear enough path existed for labourbots to get from the prison to the guard's complex. Inside the enclosure, labourbots underwent repairs or were shipped off-world to scrapyards with the guard transporter.
Nova nodded. That part of her plan should run without a hitch, as long as they drove carefully.
"I wouldn't get too close," a rough voice spoke from behind Nova.
She spun drawing her knife, and squinted into the darkness.
Two shadows stepped forward, one tall and the other short. The taller one had grey hair and stood straight-backed, out of place in the prison. Whilst the other hopped in place, head whipping in all directions.
Nova swallowed, throat dry. "Doc. What do you mean?"
He bowed his head. "The fence. I wouldn't get too close. It's not unheard of for the guards to take pot-shots at prisoners who come too close."
Nova raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the fence. "I wonder how that passes the ethics committee."
Doc chuckled. "I assume it doesn't make it into their reports."
Nova turned back to him, her knife still up. "So, did you bring some kind of deadly injection? Or is your friend going to gut me?"
Doc raised an eyebrow. "I'm actually out here tending to a patient and happened to see you lurking in the shadows."
Nova's muscles remained tense. "Don't try to tell me you don't want to get out of this place."
Doc sighed.
"Fly away!" Mouse said before falling silent.
"Of course I want to get off Ankar. I'm just not willing to kill a decent human being to do it."
Nova's eyes darted to the side. "You'll forgive me if I find that hard to believe."
Doc shrugged. "Believe what you want. I should be on my way, it's a cool night and I have a lot of patients to see."
Doc and Mouse turned and walked away from Nova, disappearing into the deep shadows.
Nova stayed where she was for a full minute, expecting an attack. When nothing happened she crept towards the courtyard, sneaking between shadows to the base of her building. She took a deep breath and gripped a divot in the cement, hauling her legs up to the first hole.
"Skelly told me you'd be here," a rasping voice spoke from the shadows.
Nova's heart leapt into her throat and she dropped back to the ground, drawing her knife.
Gren stepped out of the darkness, licking his lips. He clutched a jagged piece of metal in both hands and his eyes gleamed. "Imagine the trades I could make for you. Oh Skelly was right."
Nova gripped her knife tighter and crouched. "Gren, get out of here."
Gren grinned, teeth gleaming in the pale light and lifted his weapons. He lunged at Nova, metal glinting in his hands. His right hand blade made a curved arc through the air, straight for Nova's throat.
She jumped backwards and her head slammed into the cement wall, sending stars across her eyes.
He swung at her. His weapons sliced through the air with sharp whooshing noises. Grunting, he pushed forward, face fixed with grim determination.
Nova rolled along the wall and out of his reach. She tried not to yell out. If they made any more noise, people would come to investigate and then she'd really be in trouble. They'd probably pull her to pieces so that they could all claim that they'd killed her.
Gren stopped his mad swinging. He advanced slowly, jagged knife held out in front of his body.
"Just go easily," he said. "I'll make sure it doesn't hurt."
"I'm not going to do that. I want to live as much as you do."
"We'll see about that."
He lunged with his left blade held out. It plunged through the air, inches from Nova's stomach.
She slammed her hand down. It hit Gren's wrist, and knocked him off course. The blade slid past Nova's side and collided with the wall behind her, dropping from his hand. She swung her right fist up and caught Gren's jaw.
He cried out and stumbled backwards. His left hand clutched his face while the other brandished his other knife. "Bitch!"
Nova bent her knees and crouched low.
Gren used his bigger size to crowd her, forcing her back against the wall. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, staining his chin. He swung at her with both his fist and knife.
She ducked, dodging to the side. As she darted past she lunged out, her knife swiping at Gren's stomach.
He knocked her hand away and swung his fist at her head.
She tried to duck but he moved faster than she'd expected. His fist slammed into her temple and she stumbled back, head reeling. Her shoulder slammed into the wall and she slouched against it, staying upright by sheer force of will. Her head rung and her vision blurred. She blinked, trying to get a fix on Gren.
He grinned and advanced on her. Purple bruising already spread along his jaw but he seemed not to notice.
Nova's heart raced and heat seared up her neck. Her eyes refused to focus and her legs kept wobbling. She tilted to one side like she'd had too much to drink. This was it. She couldn't defend herself and now she was going to die from a knife wound on the floor of a prison.
Flashes of bright light appeared before her, panic taking hold. She tried to resist it. Panic was bad. She had to stay calm. If she lost control she might fall through time and land in a black hole or something equally as horrid.
It was no good. The prospect of her looming death set her adrenalin pumping. It surged through her veins in a desperate bid for survival. Her muscles clenched. She lost sight of Gren.
Her vision flashed and everything around her changed. It was daylight. Strangers walked past. There were guards! The prisoners wore orange suits and a barbed fence kept them inside the courtyard. No blood stained the cement floor.
Nova's head pounded. A part of her knew that she had to get back to the here and now. She had no way to tell if her body was still there. If it was, then she'd be standing completely defenceless in front of Gren. But the logical part of her wasn't in control anymore. This was the other part o
f her. The panicked, semi-mad, part of her.
Ankar looked so different, clean and ordered. The prisoners were quiet at the tables and anarchy had yet to take over. No one seemed to notice Nova. She was like a ghost amongst them, in the same way as they were ghosts in the history of the prison.
She stood straighter, blinking away the remaining dizziness. No tents or tin shelters spread away from the main compound, only desert. A smooth road led up from the prison block to the guard's enclosure, with no sign of a radiation shield.
The guards wore guns that rested heavily in their hands. In a place like Ankar, you shot first and asked questions later.
The panic in Nova's chest reminded her that she had a limited window of time. She cast desperately about for anything that might help her. Sometimes she could pull things through time, sometimes she couldn't.
The guards had guns. She imagined trying to take one and discarded the thought. If she tried to take a gun off them they might notice her and shoot her. It was too risky. There was nothing else nearby. She considered running to find some kind of weapon, the gun locker perhaps, but with no way to know when she'd pop back to her own time, she couldn't risk it.
Voices whispered at the edge of her hearing and she tried to shut them out. They niggled at her, begging her to listen, screaming. They crowded in on her, the voices of hundreds of people. It was like she was listening to every word that had ever been spoken in the dim courtyard, every person through history talking at the same time.
She dropped to the ground, hands over her head, covering her ears. Angry voices. Guards yelling at prisoners. Prisoners screaming, cackling, and ranting in mad tirades. A heaping pile of insanity, forcing its way into Nova's head.
"Breathe," she whispered.
She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet with her eyes closed.
"Just breathe."
Cal had warned her once that the time vortex swirling around her head would probably kill her. Now he was going to be proved right and he wasn't even here to see it.
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