She squeezed her eyes tighter. She imagined her breath flowing in and out, imagined her heart returning to a normal beat. She pictured a barrier surrounding her so that the voices couldn't get through, and teetered on the edge of madness.
Her panic quietened to a slow ache in her chest. The voices died away to a dull murmuring and the bright lights faded.
She opened her eyes into tiny slits. It was night-time again and blood stained the floor. She sat curled below a window, a few meters away from where she'd planned on climbing the wall.
"Very tricky," Gren said, face working. "But you won't get away from Skelly and me."
He lunged at Nova where she sat curled on the ground.
Her vision tilted, dizziness seizing her as she made a vain attempt to lift her knife.
"Back of your bastard!" a new voice hissed and a dark shape sprung out of the darkness, careening into Gren and sending them both tumbling to the ground.
Nova blinked, clearing her vision. Wood.
They rolled over one another, wrestling for the jagged knife in Gren's hand. Wood drew back and slammed his fist into Gren's face, knocking his head back. Gren fell away, blood pouring down his face.
Wood scrambled to his feet and rushed forward, pulling back for another hit. Mid-stride he stumbled, falling to his knees.
Nova gasped and used the wall to get to her feet. "Wood…"
He turned to look at her over his shoulder, mouth gaping.
She ran to Wood's side.
Gren's jagged knife stuck out of Wood's chest, surrounded by blood. Wood gaped but only a dull wheeze escaped his mouth. Gren lay on the ground, laughing.
"You bastard," Nova said.
Before Gren could move she lurched forward and thrust her own dagger into Gren's throat. His chuckles died in his throat and his eyes turned glassy. Blood spurted out and covered Nova's hands and arms in warm liquid. Some of it spilled over her face.
She ignored it, turning to Wood in time to catch him as he collapsed to the ground. She cradled his head in her arms, throat constricted.
"Go," Wood whispered.
"Wood…" Nova swallowed, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.
"Give 'em hell," he rasped, before his head lolled to the side, dead.
Nova drew in a ragged breath and lowered Wood's head to the ground before snatching her knife from Gren's neck. She jammed it into her belt, and sprinted to the wall. She grabbed hold and hauled herself up, moving with more speed and less care than she would have liked. She hurtled up like she had mods and fell in through her window, tumbling onto the floor.
She breathed hard, lungs heaving to keep time with her racing heart. In her mind's eye, she watched Wood over and over again, collapsing as he tried to save her. So much blood. It soaked Nova's shirt.
Her throat clenched and her stomach churned, bile rising to the back of her throat.
She took a gasping breath and struggled to her feet, tears blurring her eyes. She wiped a hand across her face, smearing away the tears.
She froze.
Her door stood open.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
One week until guard change.
Nova dived across her room and fell against her door. It slammed closed and she threw the lock home, pressing her back against it, chest heaving.
Her bed lay toppled against the wall, the mattress torn to shreds, and her clothes made tattered ribbons on the floor. Hunks of metal gleamed amongst her clothes.
The labourbots.
Nova collapsed to her knees. "No. No. No."
The machines she'd spent more than a month perfecting lay in broken pieces across the floor. The outer casings had been torn off and the internal mechanisms smashed to pieces. Split wires tangled amongst the debris like broken roots, tying it all together.
She fell back against the door and stared at the mess. One week. All she'd had to do was last one more week. Now this. She tossed her clothes aside but not a single piece of salvageable machine showed itself.
The hours she'd spent. All for nothing.
There was no way she'd survive another three months in this hell-hole until the next guard transporter. If the other prisoners didn't get her, she'd eventually get herself.
She buried her face in her hands, trembling as she rocked back and forth. She stayed like that for what felt like hours, until her legs and back went stiff from the cold, only then did she lift her head, despair replaced by rage.
Morning sunlight glowed on the horizon when someone knocked on her door.
"Nova?" Ringer said.
Nova took a deep breath and stood. She leaned her forehead against the cool metal door and closed her eyes. "Yes?"
"Are you okay? Your friend, Wood… he's dead."
"He saved me," Nova said, opening the door.
He stepped in. "How you feeling?"
"Angry."
"I know."
"I need you to get some things."
"Just name it."
"I need another two labourbots, and I need them today."
Ringer whistled. "That's a tall order. There's not many of them left anymore."
Nova's shoulders hunched and her head drooped lower. "I know. But I need them. And they need to be big like the other ones, with working motors and power sources."
"I'll do my best," Ringer said. "Anything else?"
"I'll need more sheeting from a transporter. The bastards took everything I had."
"Alright, that's easy enough."
Nova sighed. "Thanks, Ringer."
"Don't mention it. I thought you might want these." Ringer held out the scorched bars that she'd kicked out of her window.
Nova took them and nodded. "Thanks."
"I'll bring you some food in a bit."
His footsteps receded down the hall, leaving Nova alone with her thoughts. Her stomach rumbled but she dare not leave her room, knowing that jagged knives waited behind every corner.
She fixed her window as best she could to stop people climbing in and then stooped to collect the small shards of metal scattered across her floor. She threw the useless bits into a pile by the door and put the rest on her bed.
After half an hour her back ached from bending over and a pile the size of Cal sat by the door. The tiny collection of items on her bed barely made a dent in her mattress.
She ran her hand under the bed-frame, her fingers skittering through spider webs and thick layers of dust. Far at the back, in the very corner, her hand smacked against something plastic. She frowned and grabbed it, pulling it into view.
The bleach.
She let out a long breath and put it with the other items on her bed. A spanner, a screwdriver, a bottle of bleach, and a few bent nails were all that was left of her carefully laid plans.
Nova clenched her fists and sat next to the pile, fiddling with the nails. Her chest ached and her foot tapped against the floor. She got up, sat down, got up again, staring out the window. Mentally, she cursed every prisoner in the dump, but most of all she cursed the Confederacy. They'd forced her to come here in the first place and now they'd put a price on her head.
She slammed her fist down on her hard mattress and the vibrations shook the rusted frame. "Pull yourself together."
One more week. Just one week to gather everything together and recreate the remote controlled robots. So much for sleep.
All she could do was watch the sun float across the sky. Infuriating. Just when she should have been out there, doing something, she was trapped. Every second felt like an hour and yet each one was precious. She imagined the time drifting away. Seven days changed to six and a half, which changed to six and a quarter.
Knocking on the door.
"Go away, you bastards!" Nova bellowed. If she'd had her gun she would have thrown open the door and blasted every last one of them.
"It's me," said Ringer.
"Oh." She went to the door but didn't open it.
"I found them. They're in bad shape mind; I don't think they wor
k anymore."
Nova leaned her forehead against the door. A tiny smile lifted the corner of her mouth. He'd found some. That was a step. It wasn't much, but it was a step.
"Anyone else around?" Nova asked.
"Just me."
Nova took her knife from her belt and flicked the lock, opening the door a crack.
Ringer stood in the doorway alone with a labourbot, the height of his waist, on either side. His face glistened bright red and sweat drenched his shirt.
He looked at her knife and raised an eyebrow.
Nova shrugged. "Can't be too careful."
"I think you know me better than that. Do you want these or not?"
She opened the door wider and sheathed her knife.
He dragged the two labourbots through the doorway and dropped them against the wall. He glanced at the pile of scrap.
Nova shut the door, locking them both inside.
"They really did a number on you," he said, nodding to the scraps.
"Tell me about it," Nova said. "The bastards didn't even know what it was for."
She knelt by the first labourbot. Ringer had been right; they were in terrible shape. Most of their outer casing formed jagged angles and dents while the internal circuits showed no response. "Where'd you find them?"
"They were in some hut on the very outers. A woman was using 'em as imaginary friends, if you can believe it. She was pretty pissed when I took them away."
"I'm sure she'll find some different imaginary friends."
"There's heaps of sheeting but I wanted to get these to you first."
Nova looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you."
Ringer waved his hand. "Don't mention it."
"I could break you out too, you know," Nova said. She didn't want to leave Ringer behind. If anyone deserved saving, it was him.
"Nah, you know I can't."
"I'm going beyond the border," Nova said. "They might not even have Zine there."
Ringer twiddled his fingers and gazed into the air. A look of longing came over his face.
Nova stood and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'd look out for you. I've got a crew and everything."
Ringer bit his bottom lip. "It does sound tempting. But I can't. I don't want to put that kind of stress on you. Besides, once you get Carter off this rock, I'll be king of the castle. Nothing wrong with that."
Nova smiled. "If you change your mind you'll have to get another labourbot in the next couple of days."
Ringer laughed. "Are you kidding? That woman nearly killed me today. I don't think I'd risk my neck again for some labourbots."
Nova nodded, the smile fading from her lips. "I should get to work."
"Okay."
"What would I do without you?"
Ringer shrugged. "Probably be just fine. Except that the woman who used to own these labourbots would have two black eyes instead of one."
Nova laughed and followed Ringer to the door. They listened for movement but it was silent. Ringer opened the door and blocked the gap with his large body. He stepped out and shut it straight after him. Nova slid the lock home.
"Take care," Ringer said.
"And you."
Nova turned to the labourbots. She groaned at the thought of having to re-do all the tedious work. Still, it was better than being trapped on Ankar for the rest of her life.
She pulled the first labourbot into the centre of the room and pried open its outer case, revealing broken wires and a pile of rust. A damp, musty smell flowed from the ancient interior and filled her room with the scent of decay.
Repeating the process she'd followed before, she gutted the robot and stripped the wires for reprogramming.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon the robot's interior was as empty as Nova's stomach. She stood and flicked the light switch but instead of a flickering glow, shards of glass exploded down, showering the room.
"Bloody hell!"
Nova brushed the glass from her shoulders as her nostrils flared. Rage burned low in her stomach and her biceps clenched, yearning to lash out. She took a long breath and instead shifted the robot so she could work in the dim glow streaming through her window.
Worn antennas, rusted chips and corroded wires colluded against her rewiring the labourbot. They looked like they hadn't been used in over a century.
By the time morning came, Nova hadn't managed to get even one moving. Five and a half days left.
Ringer came in and dropped off a bowl of gruel.
Nova wolfed it down and looked at him over the top of the bowl. "I need a new lightbulb."
Ringer glanced at the shattered glass on her floor and frowned. "There are no more electric bulbs, but I can get you a bio-light."
Nova nodded. "Perfect."
Ringer nodded and walked away.
Nova gulped down the rest of the gruel in four massive mouthfuls and tossed the bowl into a corner of her room.
She worked all that day and night and well into the next. It wasn't until Ringer stopped by that she realised how tired she was.
Ringer frowned down at her. "How long since you slept?"
"I dunno. Three days?"
"You need to rest or you'll never work it out."
Nova shrugged and wrenched a cable free of the labourbot. "There's no time to sleep."
Even as she spoke, she felt the bone-crunching exhaustion sneaking over her. Her eyes stung with the effort of staying open and she kept yawning. Her head felt like it was full of cotton wool.
"See?" Ringer said, "Rest."
"But—" Her thoughts turned to Wood and she imagined his ghost standing in the corner of her cell.
"Just do it. And here's the light."
He held out a glass bowl lined with a sticky grey-green paste.
Nova took it, grunted thanks, and shut the door on him. She locked it and stood gazing at the worn metal. Her feet refused to work. She wanted to go back to the robots but instead her legs carried her to the bed. She fell face-forward onto the mattress and her eyes drooped closed.
Nova's eyes blinked open to almost pitch blackness. Silence hung in her cell like a veil, thick and suffocating. She sat bolt upright and looked around. How long had she slept? What if it had been days and not hours? What if she'd missed the transporter?
Her heart hammered in her chest and she took a deep breath. If she'd been asleep for days Ringer or Carter would have come and woke her. There was nothing wrong. She just had to get back to work and everything would be fine.
A soft glow pulsed in the corner of her room. She tensed as she peered at it through the shadows.
The bowl Ringer had given her glowed in the darkness like a huge blue light, casting a cool glow over her cell and lighting up the labourbots.
She slipped out of bed and onto the floor. The labourbots looked like dark sentinels in the semi-light. Her heart returned to a steady hum and she wiped the sleep from her eyes.
Bending forward, she examined the wires she'd been connecting before she fell asleep. The damn thing had refused to respond. She frowned at her work; the wires seemed to stand out like bright roads now that she'd cleared the wool from her head.
"Idiot." It was so obvious! She could have had both robots working by now if she'd just stopped and thought about it.
Nova threw herself into the work, ignoring the nagging ache in her back. For the first time since Wood's attack she felt a flutter of hope. She could do this.
When dawn trickled through the window Nova clicked the remote control and the labourbot rumbled to life, clattering across her cell.
Nova glanced at the tally on her wall. Two days. That meant that she had just one more night to get everything ready and then her and Carter would have to get moving.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
One day until guard change.
Ringer delivered the sheeting along with some more food. He looked at Nova's face and smiled. "There, you look much better."
"Yes, I know. You were right."
"Th
ey're working?" Ringer said.
"Yes. I've got to make a few more adjustments and then they need to go to Carter's room."
"No problem, I can do that."
"Excellent. Do you think you can also get me a bucket?"
"I think so."
"You're the best." Nova smiled. "Is there anything at all I can do for you once we get free?"
"Nah," Ringer said. "Just give the Confederacy hell for me."
"That I can definitely do."
"Good. I'll come by tonight to take the bots."
"Thanks, Ringer."
Nova closed the door and carried the thin metal sheets to her bed. She used her knife to carve the sheeting, bending it around the outside of the robots.
She overlapped each section so there were no gaps, using broken nails to attach some sections and bits of wire on others. The front panel section was the hardest. She had to be able to open and close it from the inside and yet it had to shield completely. She ended up deciding to use one big sheet that overlapped on all sides with a simple latch to keep it in place.
She checked the labourbots three times for any gaps, her mind buzzing with what would happen if she messed up. Death. At best. They looked clean, although there was no way to tell until they tried to get into the compound, and by then it would be too late.
Ringer dropped off a bucket and Nova filled it with water.
She scrubbed a spare piece of sheeting until it shone and glinted her reflection back to her. Next, she pulled out her knife, grabbed a handful of her long black hair, and hacked at it until it just brushed her shoulders. She did her best to keep the line straight but it was impossible at the back where she couldn't see properly. It would have to do. She'd keep it up anyway.
She poured a capful of bleach into the bucket of water and dipped her hair into it, careful to keep it away from her face. As she strained her neck and back to keep in position she considered that it would have been much easier if she'd just dyed her hair before she came to prison. She rolled her eyes and glared down at the bucket. "Idiot."
When the strain on her back became too much, she straightened, using an old rag to keep her hair away from her face. She dabbed it dry and studied her reflection.
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