by Chris Fox
Carina realized she was still holding her weapon ready. She slung the Jensen over her shoulder and went over to the kid. He shrank against the wall and squealed at her approach.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m here to rescue you.”
The boy didn’t seem to hear. He pressed himself harder into the wall and moaned in terror. He was wearing a child-sized CO2 filter mask. Carina suddenly realized how scary she had to look to him, suited up in armor and with a tinted visor covering her face.
She put down her gun and unsnapped the locks on her helmet. Lifting it off, she squatted down a short distance from the boy and held out a hand. “Don’t be scared. We’re here to take you home.”
This time her words seemed to penetrate. The boy peeked at her from underneath an arm, and for the first time Carina saw the child’s large, deep brown-black eyes.
“Carina,” Speidel said, bursting in again, “what are you doing?”
The captain’s abrupt appearance undid all of Carina’s work at calming the boy down. He flinched and turned away again, sobbing and moaning.
“Grab him,” Speidel said. “We have to get out of here.”
“Okay, I’m coming.” Carina put on her helmet and picked up her gun. She also scooped up the child, who wriggled and fought and bit her armor. With horror, Carina saw the cause of his terror. The boy’s fingernails and toenails had been ripped off. The Dirksens had been torturing him.
Holding the struggling child firmly over her shoulder, she ran down the corridor, following Speidel’s echoing footsteps. In her other hand she held her Jensen, muzzle up. The hiss of pulse rounds came from up ahead. Speidel and Atoi were in a firefight.
Carina brought down the smelting plant’s blueprint on her helmet overlay and searched for another escape route. She didn’t want to abandon Speidel, but taking the unprotected child near weapons fire would be insane. The blueprint was complex and she had no time to figure it out. Spying what appeared to be a different route to the roof, she turned down a narrow corridor on her left. She followed the next turn too and the next, going deeper into the complex.
The boy seemed to have gotten the idea that she was trying to help him. He’d ceased struggling and hung like a limp rag over her shoulder. He was small for his age and Carina hardly felt his weight as she ran.
She turned another corner and abruptly stopped. She was at a dead end.
“What the…?” Carina checked her visor overlay. She was sure she’d seen another corridor leading from the one they were in. Her heart sank when she saw that what she’d mistaken for a corridor was an air duct. Spinning around, she saw the access point: a square wire grid in the wall, behind which a fan whirred.
The sounds of battle were drawing nearer.
“Carina,” Speidel said through her helmet comm. “Where’d you go? We have to leave. Stevenson heard from Duchess that Dirksen ships are on their way.”
“I’m making my way to the shuttle,” she said. “I didn’t want to take the kid within range of fire. Give me two minutes.”
“You got it,” Speidel said. “Don’t keep us waiting.”
“I won’t,” Carina replied, wondering desperately how she was going to make her way to the roof in time.
Her gaze returned to the wire grid. She could melt it and the fan behind it with a pulse from her Jensen, but that would leave the metal too hot to touch, and the kid had nothing to protect him.
Carina put the child down and pulled her knife from its sheath. At the sight of it, the boy took a breath as if to scream. Carina clamped her hand over his mouth. “For the last time, kid. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m here to take you back to your family. Now can you be quiet?”
The boy swallowed and nodded. Carina removed her hand and went to the grid. She pushed the knife blade behind it and pried the cover away from the wall. The fan was only slotted in place. Carina lifted it out and peered into the dark tunnel. The boy could fit in, but it looked impossibly small for her. She had no choice. She had to try to squeeze inside.
Hastily, she began to unclip her armor. “Get in the tunnel,” she said as she worked. The boy looked from the dark opening to her. He shook his head.
“Get in,” she repeated. “It’s the only way. If we can make it up to the roof, we have a ship waiting for us, but they’re leaving soon.”
The boy still didn’t move.
“Come on,” she said. “Please.”
He hesitated but then finally padded on his wounded feet over to the black, square hole. With a final look at her, as if checking that she wasn’t tricking him, he climbed inside. Carina had nearly removed all her armor. She unclipped the legs and stepped out of them. Crouching down to enter the shaft, she rued the fact that she had no way of reattaching the wire grid once she was inside, nor of making her pile of discarded armor disappear. Where they had gone would be glaringly obvious to anyone trying to find them, but it couldn’t be helped.
She picked up her helmet and put it on. The internal gel that molded around the back of her head would hold it in place, and she needed it for light in the tunnel and comm with Speidel.
The soles of the kid’s bare, dirty feet were all she could see of him. He was moving fast. Was he trying to get away from her?
“Hey,” she called. “Wait up.”
The feet paused. Carina was relieved. The kid seemed to trust her after all. His resilience impressed her. He’d been taken from his family, kept hostage, and tortured—tortured! What kind of sick fuck would torture a six year old? And why? Did they think a little kid had secrets worth telling? Or had they done it for kicks?
She blinked the blueprint into view again, overlaid on the inside of her visor. “Helmet,” she said, “shortest route to the roof.” A red line threaded through the mass of green ones. An arrow pointed at the next turn. “Go left,” Carina called.
A flashing clock on the helmet display made her heart sink. Estimated time to destination: 10m 23s.
“Shit,” she breathed. She stopped crawling. “Hold up,” she called to the kid. Going faster wasn’t going to help. She needed to think.
Somehow, the boy had managed to turn around in the narrow tunnel. His dirty, tear-streaked face, topped with shaggy hair came toward her. He hadn’t yet said a word to her, Carina realized. He was probably too traumatized.
Carina was on her front, facing him. She knew there was only one way out of the situation for both of them, but still she balked at it. If the kid blabbed, she would be at extreme risk. But if she didn’t do what she had to, she would be captured and killed by the Dirksens, and the boy would have lost his only possible chance of escape.
She debated trying to explain away what was about to happen, but decided to just do it. Later, she would figure out how to deal with whatever interpretation the kid made of it.
Carina reached into her shirt and brought out the elixir canister, which had been painfully squeezed between her and the metal floor of the tunnel. The boy’s eyes grew round.
“Just wait a minute,” Carina said. “I need to take a sip of this.”
She swallowed a mouthful of elixir. “Hold my hand,” she said. “You’re coming with me.”
13
Carina appeared in a corner of the roof at just the point she’d aimed at according to the blueprint. She was relieved to find that the boy, his eyes wider than ever, was still holding her hand tightly. The shuttle was there, and Speidel was pacing impatiently in front of it.
“Quick,” Carina whispered, “come on.”
She ran out a little way onto the roof. “We’re here, sir.”
Speidel turned. “Where have you been? And where’s your armor? Never mind. Get aboard the shuttle.”
He cried out and collapsed to his knees before falling forward on his face. A guard had emerged from a doorway behind him as he was speaking and shot him in the back. Carina leveled her Jensen at the guard and fired off a round that hit the man’s visor. The plexiglass darkened and sagged from the blast, and the guard droppe
d his weapon, yelling with pain.
“Go up the ramp,” Carina told the boy, who was frozen, staring at the guard who was clawing at his melted visor. She gave the child a push, and his trance broke. He ran aboard the shuttle. Carina tried to haul Speidel up, but his body was heavy and entirely limp. Turning him on his back, she opened his visor. The captain’s face was still and peaceful. Her heart stopped.
Sounds blurred and her vision swam. Time seemed to slow down. He couldn’t be dead. Carina blinked away hot tears that were dropping onto her visor and scanned the older man’s face for any sign of life, but there were none.
“Lin, get aboard.” It was Stevenson, the shuttle pilot. His words pulled her out of her frozen state. In the corner of her vision, she saw movement. More Dirksen guards were arriving.
With a terrible wrench, she let go of Speidel’s body and ran up the shuttle ramp. As she reached the top, agony exploded behind her knee. Her legs collapsed. She’d been shot.
The ramp closed, and pain tore through her. Without her armor’s pain-suppressing injector system, she felt the full effects of her wound. She lay on her back, trying not to scream. All she could see were the ceiling lights and the concerned face of the Sherrerr boy hanging over her.
What seemed like an age later, Atoi appeared, staggering in the shuttle’s rocky flight. She pressed an anesthetic gun to the inside of Carina’s wrist, and the cold, cool feeling of relief flooded through her. The drug made her groggy and confused too. She said to Atoi, “Where’s the captain? We forgot him. We left him behind. I have to go and get him.”
Atoi placed a gentle hand on her stomach. “Stay right where you are, soldier. An auto-gurney’s waiting for you.”
Carina’s head flopped to one side. “Where’s the kid?”
“He’s right here,” Atoi replied.
The child was sitting on his haunches against the bulkhead, watching her. He had an inscrutable look on his face. She wondered vaguely what he was thinking. What had he made of their impossible transference from the cramped tunnel to the rooftop? He was only six. Hopefully, his young mind would find a way of explaining it away.
A low hum signaled the arrival of the auto-gurney. They seemed to have made it back to Duchess, though to Carina only moments had passed. Atoi stepped out of the way as the device lowered to the ground and secured Carina’s neck and spine before lifting her onto its base. The hum started up again as the vehicle moved away.
Carina could see only the corridor ceiling as she was carried along.
“Hey, kid,” she heard Atoi call. “Come back here.”
“I want to go with her,” the boy protested. They were the first words Carina had heard him speak. The pain relief was clouding her senses, and she didn’t hear if Atoi relented and let the Sherrerr accompany her.
The next thing she knew, she lying on a soft medroom bed surrounded by curtains.
Carina tried to sit up, but her right leg was restrained somehow. Her memory of the mission came flooding back, along with the knowledge of Speidel’s death.
She lay down and wept, her tears running down the sides of her face and into her hair. After a long while, she lifted her head and looked down her body. A cylinder of transparent plastic encased the middle section of her leg. Restorative gel filled the plastic, working on the wound she’d received. Her nerves in that part of her body were numb.
On the edge of her vision, she noticed the Sherrerr boy was sitting down nearby. He came closer when he saw her notice him, and a pair of large, brown-black eyes stared into hers. The kid had been cleaned up and his hair was a little less shaggy.
“I saw what you did,” the boy said.
Carina’s chest tightened. Through a gap in the curtains, she could see the doc on the other side of the room. He didn’t seem to have heard the child.
She tried to signal the boy with her eyes and lifted a finger to her lips. To her great relief, he seemed to understand the need for secrecy. He nodded solemnly and moved his chair until it was right next to her bed. He watched her face.
“We should have you back with your family soon,” Carina said.
The doctor heard this. “Carina, you’re awake? How are you feeling?” he asked, parting the curtains. He bent over her leg to look at it closely through the transparent gel. “Should have you back to normal in ten hours or so, and no scarring. This latest gel we picked up is very good. Stimulates your own stem cells to replace the damaged tissue. Your new skin will be as soft as a baby’s bottom.”
“And your little friend is still here,” he went on. “I thought I told you to stay in bed,” he said to the boy. “Plenty of vidgames on the system to keep you occupied.”
The child lifted his hand and placed it gently atop Carina’s. The hand was encased in a glove of healing gel.
“I want to stay here,” he said.
The doctor grimaced as Carina lifted her gaze from the kid’s torture wounds toward him. He looked as though he wanted to say more but was refraining due to the child’s presence.
“I don’t suppose it will hurt for you to remain with your rescuer for a little while. But if you feel odd or dizzy, it’s straight back to bed with you, and you must let me know. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
The doctor smiled. “You can call me Harvey, son.” He addressed Carina. “Keep an eye on him for me, will you? I need to report to Tarsalan on how you’re all doing.”
“Is she up and around now?” Carina asked. “Has she recovered?”
“She hasn’t fully recovered, no, but that didn’t stop her from getting up and telling the Sherrerrs of your success the moment she heard about it. We’re on our way to one of the planets they control right now.”
“What’s happening with the Black Dogs?” Carina asked. “Did she say anything about that?”
“You’ve been through a lot, Lin. Just take it easy for now, okay? I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He left, pulling her bed curtains closed.
“What’s your name, kid?” Carina asked, realizing that he’d only ever been referred to as the victim, the target, or the Sherrerr child.
“Darius,” the boy replied. He leaned forward. “I saw what you did,” he repeated.
The familiar, horrible clenching in Carina’s chest returned. The boy’s words also reminded her of something else she needed to be concerned about. She craned her neck to scan around for her belongings. Her clothes had been folded in a pile on the shelf next to her bed, and the metal elixir canister was on the top of the pile. A little relieved, she sunk back into her pillows.
She had to divert the child’s mind to another subject. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’m okay now.” Darius’ gaze shifted to his injured hands, and the shadow of a painful memory crossed his features. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I was only doing my job. Your family paid us to bring you back.”
The boy’s expression turned sad, and Carina realized her words sounded harsher than she’d intended, as if she didn’t care whether they’d succeeded in their mission. “But I’m glad we found you and got you out of there.”
Darius’ expression brightened. “When we were stuck in the tunnel, I was scared. I didn’t know how we were going to get out. I thought we would die in there. But I didn’t mind too much, just so long as I was away from the people who were hurting me.”
“But we did get out, right?” said Carina. “And now you’re safe. So don’t think about that anymore.”
There was no stopping the child, however. “You took out your bottle, and you had a drink, and I wanted some because I was so thirsty, but I was too shy to ask.”
He seemed hell-bent on going over how they’d ended up at the shuttle. Carina resigned herself to the fact and was grateful that nobody else was around to hear him.
“Then you told me to hold your hand, and you closed your eyes,” Darius continued, “and the next thing I knew, we were on the roof next to the starship,
and I didn’t remember how we got there.”
“It doesn’t matter how we got there, does it?” Carina asked. “We got where we needed to go. All that matters is that you’re safe now.”
“I guess so.” The boy looked doubtful.
“So let’s not talk about it anymore,” Carina suggested. “It’s only going to confuse people. You probably fell asleep while I carried you up to the roof, only you don’t remember.”
Darius’ brow furrowed. “No, I didn’t fall asleep. I know how we got there. You cast.”
14
Carina almost—but not quite—swallowed the gasp that rose from her throat. The shrewd look on the little boy’s face as he watched her reaction told her that she had severely underestimated him.
Though she felt guilty at lying to someone so young, she made another effort to maintain her subterfuge. “What do you mean? We went up to the roof together. Don’t you remember going through the vent tunnels?”
The boy giggled. “It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend with me. I know it’s a secret. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
Carina was so deeply conflicted that, for a moment, she was lost for words. Her grandmother’s warnings sounded in her mind as strong as ever. She felt an almost physical revulsion at the idea that the boy knew her secret, not least because the only person she’d ever revealed herself to was now dead.
Yet the temptation to speak freely again to another human being about her mage ability was strong. Telling Speidel had been a sweet release after her years of isolation and loneliness.
Adding to her emotional turmoil was a burning curiosity. How did this kid know about casting? Nai Nai had told her that her family were scattered across the galaxy. Could it be possible that this child knew one of her long-lost kin?
She was reclining on pillows, but now she pulled herself upright. “Would you please open the curtains?” she asked the child.