by K. M. Ruiz
Dr. Isaiah Korman was a pockmarked drunk, but he could still see straight when jacked into a system. The biomodifications that had replaced his eyes shifted in his metal-lined eye sockets, their observations fed directly to his brain through neuroports. Korman took a sip from a metal flask and swallowed as he studied Threnody’s test results.
“He wants the impossible. Did I say that already? You get stuck down here and you’re screwed.”
“Are you done yet?” Threnody said from where she sat on the metal exam table. After four hours of tests, she was done with him.
Korman rubbed a hand over his face. His fingers skimmed over the wires that cut out from his eyes and back into his skull through his temples. Half his skull was metal plating, tapering down to his spine. He seemed to have more cybernetic replacements in his body than Matron did.
“Your nervous system is intact. More than intact. If your synapses were talking to each other any louder, they’d be screaming.”
Threnody scratched at her bare arm, fingernails moving around the needle stuck into the crook of her elbow. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
“You said he tanked you?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” Korman took another sip from his flask. “Lucas must have found an upgraded program, because you’re healed. Fully functioning body. It’s a damn miracle.”
“I was nearly dead.”
“Well, I can officially upgrade your status to living. Congratulations.” Korman let out a bark of laughter that grated on Threnody’s ears and toasted her with his flask. “Goddamn it, I could use a biotank like that. It fixed you faster than any of the ones I’ve got here. I hope Lucas brought it with him.”
“It wasn’t just a biotank that did this,” Threnody said, splaying one hand over her knee and thinking about someone else’s power in her body.
“Your psion physiology probably had something to do with it. You’ve all got complicated genomes. You people can take more damage than us humans and survive it.”
Korman tipped his head back and poured what remained in the flask into his mouth. What was left of his skin, already blotchy, got redder. Threnody slid the needle out of her arm. She wasn’t going to stay in the presence of someone intent on drinking himself to death. She got to her feet, bootheels touching the floor as the door to the small lab opened.
Lucas stepped inside, gaze moving over the two. “Korman. So glad I caught you mostly sober. Diagnosis?”
“Mostly sober?” Korman snorted and tossed his flask onto the nearby counter. “I took the nanites out of her veins. She’s got no lasting damage from trauma. More like she wasn’t damaged to begin with. What am I supposed to do with her?”
“Nothing.” Lucas walked over to view the vidscreen, assessing the information in silence. “Interesting. Looks like all my efforts saved your life, Threnody. Care to thank me?”
“No,” she said.
“Smart girl,” Korman muttered. “He’s worse than the damn World Court when it comes to torture. Best to keep your mouth shut.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The Strykers Syndicate’s OIC got terminated on a worldwide news stream the other day. They left her second as Acting OIC.”
Korman was telekinetically yanked out of his chair and slammed against the wall. Dangling with his feet off the ground and struggling to breathe against the pressure wrapped around his throat, he clawed uselessly at Lucas’s power.
“They did what?” Lucas snarled.
For the first time since they’d teamed up, Threnody heard actual, real emotion in Lucas’s voice, saw it on his face. Shock and fury drained all the blood from his face, the dark circles beneath his dark blue eyes standing out sharply.
Surprised, Threnody cleared her throat and said, “He can’t answer if you kill him.”
Abruptly, Korman fell to the floor. Threnody never saw him land, too busy staring at Lucas’s shaking hands. She took in all the tiny details of how he stood before turning her head to look at Korman.
“Get out.”
The doctor obeyed her in record time, stumbling out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him. Threnody walked over to lock it. Turning, she put her back to it and crossed her arms over her chest. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop Lucas from leaving the room, but judging by the way he looked right now, he wasn’t going anywhere until he got himself under control.
“Is this about the Silence Law?” Threnody said, refusing to look away from Lucas’s gaze.
“No,” Lucas said, taking a deep, steadying breath. Some color started to return to his face. “No, it’s not.”
“Then why are you worried about Ciari?”
“It doesn’t concern you yet.”
“Yet.” Threnody let out a harsh laugh before moving away from the door to stand in front of Lucas. “We are here because of your goddamn concern, Lucas. Don’t lie to me.”
For one brief moment, something alien filled his eyes. Alien because Threnody never thought she’d see fear inside Lucas.
“I should have taken her with us when we left Buffalo,” Lucas said. “She was only in Toronto. I had time to get her down here and have Korman perform the extraction.”
“Why are you worried about her?”
“She’s carrying my child.”
Threnody felt as if she’d been punched, all the breath leaving her lungs. Shock came first, then the sickening realization that no unborn child would be able to survive what a neurotracker could do to a human body.
“Are you joking?” Threnody said weakly, searching his face. “You’re not joking.”
“I need to find out what happened to Ciari.” Lucas headed for the door, but Threnody’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Let go.”
“You can’t leave the South Pole. We only just got here and Ciari’s torture was days ago.”
“All the more reason for me to leave.”
“And do what? You’re in no condition to save anyone right now.” Threnody dug her fingers into his arm and moved so he had to look at her. “We need more downtime.”
“You don’t understand,” Lucas snapped, wrenching his arm free of her grip and glaring at her. “My daughter is why I’m doing all of this.”
Threnody didn’t move, never broke eye contact. “And I’m doing it for everyone else. Your reasons aren’t any more or less valid than my own, despite your shitty attitude. So for once, listen to me.”
Lucas blinked at her, momentarily thrown off-kilter by her complete lack of obedience.
“Korman said the World Court put the Strykers Syndicate’s second officer into the OIC post as Acting OIC,” Threnody said. “They don’t do that unless the OIC is still alive. Which means Keiko is running the Syndicate and Ciari is still breathing. I can’t say anything about your daughter, but if Ciari’s been helping you all along, betraying both the World Court and Nathan beneath the rules of the Silence Law, don’t you think she would have watched out for her own unborn child?”
“Would she?”
Threnody punched him in the same spot Quinton had. Her fist made contact only because Lucas wasn’t thinking straight and wasn’t up to full strength. Lucas’s head snapped to the side and he swore.
Threnody shook out the tension in her hand from the hit. “You goddamn bastard. After everything that Ciari’s given up for you, you’re really going to ask that? Fuck you, Lucas.”
Lucas touched his mouth, fingers skimming over swelling tissue. She hadn’t split his lip, and she had half a thought to try again to rectify that mistake.
Don’t, Lucas said into her mind, but without the heat of anger.
“The OIC is a position I would never want,” Threnody said after a long moment of silence. “Ciari’s argued for our lives over and over again and this is the payment she gets for it. For toeing the fucking line and letting you do what needs to be done, she gets her fucking brain fried. And you think she’d risk losing her baby?”
Lucas let his hand drop away and he s
pat on the floor of the lab. “I need to know what happened to my daughter.”
“After the clusterfuck in Buffalo, Ciari had to know she’d be summoned before the bench. She’d have time to do whatever she could to save the baby before that order came. Your daughter is most likely in Toronto. Probably in the medical level of the Strykers Syndicate.”
Lucas closed his eyes, but the tension didn’t leave his body. “Can you be certain that’s true?”
“No, but it’s the most logical place. We can’t run off and find out just yet.” Threnody lifted both hands to rub at her temples, feeling a headache coming on. “We need to be at full strength before we rush into things, otherwise we’ll make mistakes and it’ll cost us.”
“Tomorrow,” Lucas said after a moment. “We’ll figure out what to do tomorrow.”
Threnody could only agree to that compromise, and this time she didn’t try to stop Lucas from leaving. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, pausing only long enough to say, “Coming?”
She followed him out.
Lucas led her to a small room barely big enough for a single bed and an old, rickety desk. “Yours,” he said. “And Quinton’s. I’ll let you decide who gets the bed. Cafeteria is down the hall. It’s cramped quarters all around, but don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on my sisters.”
He said it as if they were still a threat and she stared at him. “Should I be worried?”
Lucas didn’t answer and started to close the door. Threnody put her hand against it, forcing him to stop. Threnody gazed at him silently for a moment before saying, “Get some rest.”
Lucas closed the door. Shaking her head, Threnody went to sit on the bed, wondering if it was worth it to peel out of her skinsuit. Instead, she slid beneath a patched blanket and dozed.
Threnody woke when the door opened again, instincts too fine-tuned to ignore even the slightest of noises. She opened her eyes and watched as Quinton came into the room and switched on the light.
“I’ll take the floor,” he said tiredly, carrying extra blankets. “Go back to sleep, Thren.”
“The cargo?”
“Safely stored.” Quinton rolled the blankets out on the floor. “Still needs to be sorted. That’s going to take weeks.”
It was hard to believe what they had accomplished, stealing from the government for the sake of a world. She swallowed, wishing she had water. “How many seeds?”
Quinton lifted his head and looked at her. Even through his exhaustion, she could see the awe in his eyes. “Millions, Thren. Millions.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, the strange feeling curling in her gut almost foreign. Hope always was.
[FOURTEEN]
SEPTEMBER 2379
AMUNDSEN-SCOTT SOUTH POLE STATION, ANTARCTICA
Kristen found Threnody with Quinton during lunch, when Threnody was shoveling a forkful of rice and actual beans into her mouth. They had a corner table in the cafeteria with their backs to the wall, but they never saw Kristen coming. She was suddenly there across the table from them, chin propped up on her bony hands, psionic interference scratching against their shields. Her permanent smile wasn’t inviting.
Threnody paused midchew, meeting Kristen’s gaze with a healthy dose of wariness. The teenager used her hands to twist her blond head into a painful angle until it looked as if Kristen might snap her own neck. “Do you know what happens when Warhounds touch Sercas without our permission?” Kristen said, gleaming dark blue eyes never blinking. “We kill them.”
“You touch her, I will burn you,” Quinton said, reaching for the lighter in his pocket.
“An eye for an eye.” Kristen dragged a finger down over her face, scratching a long line of red into her skin. “For what both of you did to my brother. It’s only fair.”
Quinton cast Threnody a questioning glance. Threnody shrugged and swallowed her bite of food. “We disagreed about something, so I introduced my fist to his face.”
“So proud, aren’t you?” Kristen laughed, raspy and amused. She stretched out her arms, let her hands slide against the edge of the table as she leaned her weight forward, catching Threnody’s gaze. “How highly everyone must think of you. To waste all that time saving you. To let your hands wander like they do.”
“What caused me to punch Lucas isn’t your business.”
That smile never changed, though the look in Kristen’s eyes became predatory. “And here I thought all they beat into you dogs was obedience.”
“Would we be here if that was the case?”
“You would be wherever it was Lucas needed you to be.” Kristen abruptly sat back, lifting both hands to tuck strands of hair behind her ears. Her eyes became half-lidded; the smile never fading. “I can make you be whatever I want you to be.”
“Kristen,” a sharp voice said. “What did Lucas say about cornering people?”
Threnody looked away from Kristen, knowing that Quinton would keep the girl from going for their throats, and watched as Samantha approached their table. Even in this cramped place at the bottom of the world, Samantha still looked put-together. Built like her older brother, she was tall and thin, gorgeous enough to shine from a news stream, but that wasn’t her place anymore. Samantha came to a stop behind Kristen’s chair, attention on her sister and no one else.
“Sammy-girl,” Kristen drawled, canting her head back to look at her sister. “Did Lucas put you in charge of holding my leash today? How boring.”
A malignant pressure slid against Threnody’s mental shields, saturated with negative emotion. Quinton must have felt it as well because he was getting to his feet, ready to fight. Samantha placed her hand on Kristen’s head, stroking her fingers through straight blond hair. Affection almost, or so Threnody thought. Right up until Samantha gripped Kristen’s hair with one hand and slammed the younger girl’s head against the tabletop.
Bright red blood splattered across the cracked plastic. Kristen choked on her laughter as the low hum of conversation in the cafeteria faded. The pressure in Threnody’s mind disappeared. Quinton remained standing, but didn’t intervene.
“Not broken,” Kristen said, even as she lifted her head and straightened her crooked nose with both hands, blood dripping down her face. Her skin was starting to swell. She pressed her teeth into the cut that split her bottom lip, sinking the edges into a faint line of red.
“Come along, Kristen,” Samantha said, her gaze flicking over to the other pair at the table, gaze icy. “Lucas wants you. All of you.”
Threnody picked up her fork and tapped it against her bowl. “When I’m done.”
The contemplative look Samantha gave her made the hair on the back of Threnody’s neck stand on end, as if the teenager were thinking about how to take her apart in the slowest way possible. “Now, Stryker.”
Deliberately, Threnody took another bite. Samantha’s expression became remote and Threnody could feel telepathy claw against her mental shields. The vast power of a Class II telepath flowed around her mind, digging hooks into her defenses.
I won’t pretend to understand why Lucas chose you. I just know that he did, Samantha said against the outskirts of Threnody’s mind. Stand up, or I will make you. It’s a process you will not enjoy.
I thought Lucas didn’t need an enforcer, Threnody said, letting her thoughts sit where the telepath could barely reach them without inciting trauma. He’s done just fine without one all these years.
Lucas is breaking the world. I’m simply ensuring I remain on the winning side.
Your usual position, yes? Threnody arched an eyebrow and took another bite of her food. Always second, never first? Unless we’re counting your twin. How is Gideon, Samantha?
Really now, Lucas interrupted as he telepathically put himself between Threnody’s mind and Samantha’s sharply focused power. As amusing as this is, I have better things to do than fix the both of you again. We have a meeting. It starts in five minutes. None of you will be late.
He pulled out of Threnody’s mind, taking Samantha w
ith him. The younger girl didn’t seem offended at his interference, merely turned her back on Threnody and Quinton with a disdain that no one could miss. Threnody didn’t take it personally as she watched the sisters leave the cafeteria, Kristen skipping ahead.
“If Lucas gives her half a chance,” Threnody said quietly, “she’ll kill him.”
“Which one?” Quinton said.
“Take your pick.”
Quinton nodded agreement. Threnody took one last bite of her food—her third bowl in the past twenty minutes—before they got up to deposit their dirty dishes in the designated area. Everything was reused down here since they had no way to bring in new supplies unless it was either flown or teleported in. The only shuttles Quinton had seen at the outpost were the nine they arrived in. Lucas had effectively trapped some of Matron’s scavengers in Antarctica for over a year. It was a wonder none of them went mad during the long polar day and even worse polar night.
The two were the last into the heated room for the meeting. The only people who looked happy to see them were Jason and Kerr, though the smile Kerr gave Threnody was pained. Despite everything they’d gone through since the Slums, it was hard to reconcile the changes that had happened among the four. Blame was just as devastating as hate and they were struggling not to feel either.
Threnody wouldn’t apologize for surviving. Kerr would never believe it if she did. They still stood together, shoulder to shoulder, to face what came next.
The room was cluttered with work terminals. Novak and Everett were hunched over one, muttering to themselves about issues with a hack, while Matron and Zahara watched their progress in silence. Samantha and Kristen huddled in a corner by themselves, far from where Lucas stood next to Korman with three strangers.
Threnody thought they belonged to Matron, but then the tallest man opened his mouth and her attention locked on him. “Now that we’re all here, can we upload the damn program so that me and mine can get a flight off this continent?”
The man was middle-aged, with a scar like a second smile curved around his throat. Biomodifications showed in his jaw and neck, his altered voice coming through electronics. The sound was the harsh burr of a reality no one liked to be told about, familiar from a decade of riding the pirate streams that the government could never quite kill.