Dark Deeds (Class 5 Series Book 2) (22 page)

L
ong ago
, the ancient Grih who'd come close to death spoke of hearing beautiful singing while they hovered in what they called the InBetween. It was part of their history, and every Grih learned the strange and mystical stories their ancestors told each other long ago, more with a sense of amusement and indulgence than anything else.

But Hal
could
hear it.

It was in a strange language, more melodic and smooth than Grihan or any of the other languages of the UC.

The sweet sound was interrupted by a loud, discordant cry followed by a loud exclamation.

The singing stopped, and then started again, this time infused with laughter. The song was different, more upbeat, and every now and then, the singer whistled a tune.

Hal opened his eyes.

He could see the underside of Fiona's chin, and the dark curtain of her hair. She was looking off to the side as she sang.

She said something in her language, and when there was another discordant reply, she laughed.

“What . . .” his voice was a faint croak, but as he spoke, she swept back her hair, looked down at him.

The expression on her face was one of relief and overwhelming delight.

“You're awake.” Tears welled in her eyes and clung to her lashes, and a feeling lanced through him that was painful in its intensity, squeezing his lungs and closing up his throat.

He fought to sit up.

She'd had his head in her lap, he realized, and they were . . . he tried to focus. Back in the storage room. In Imogen Peter's cage.

He swallowed and then coughed, his throat burning it was so dry. “Water?” he asked on a croak, and she shook her head. “Nothing except what's been left in that bucket, and I just don't know how long it's been there. I'm too scared it's bad.”

He nodded, then remembered one of the pockets of his uniform came with a rehydration pack.

It was still there, and he pulled it out, ripped it open and offered it to Fiona first.

She shook her head. “I'm fine. You're the one who got zapped.”

He sucked down half and offered it to her again, his body responding almost instantly to the liquid.

She trailed her fingers down his cheek in a gentle caress. “Have it all. I'm so happy to see you upright. And you're going to need all your strength.”

She came up on her knees, slid her arms around him, and at that moment he heard the murmur of men's voice, the shifting of bodies.

He turned his head, saw a small band of Krik staring at them.

“The lens is pointed right at us,” she whispered in his ear. The warmth of her, the touch of her lips to his skin, the sweet scent of her, made him tighten his grip. “I can get us out of here, but only if you're up to running, because they'll know the moment we bolt.”

He gave a slow nod, although he wondered how she could get them out. Perhaps Eazi had a way. He kept his gaze on the Krik. “Are these your friends from the
Fasbe
?”

“Yes. We aren't talking to each other, because they don't want the lens to pick up our conversation, but that's Gerwa and his happy crew.” She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment and he dropped his cheek on top of it. Rubbed against the incredibly smooth, silky texture of her hair, so different to his own.

“Can you stand?”

He gave another nod, although he wasn't sure.

He shuffled back from her, put out a hand to grip a bar and pulled himself up.

His knees gave way, but he didn't go down, and after blowing out a breath, he managed to push himself up again.

He was looking straight at the Krik, and they were looking right back at him. Their eyes sharp and avaricious, their demeanor watchful and arrogant.

They pushed every button he had.

He realized his hands were so tight on the bars, his knuckles were white.

“You seem not to like us, Grih.” The Krik who spoke to him rested a cocked hip on the bars of the cage, a sneer on his face.

“As you——”

Fiona grabbed his shirt and gave him a little yank to remind him about the lens.

He swallowed his rage, remembered he needed to see if he could move fast enough to escape. He walked to the end of the cage and had to stop, his muscles trembling.

Fiona watched him with worried eyes from the center of the space.

From behind her, the strange, beautiful bird from her planet whistled a jaunty tune. Fiona turned and sang to it, and the sheer perfection of it, so casually done, astonished him.

The bird whistled again, and he realized the creature was participating in the song, that they were making music together.

“What is that?” he asked when they stopped.

The Krik were watching as well, and Hal didn't like their intense interest.

“Imogen must have taught him. I can imagine they had lots of hours to fill down here. It's an extremely funny song, but tragic, too, because the . . . visual comms it was written for is a kind of satire and at the end, people who are slowly dying in horrific circumstances sing this happy tune about always looking on the bright side of life.” She went quiet. “I suppose Imogen wasn't far off from being in their shoes, and singing this song, teaching the macaw to do the whistling part with her, was both ironic and funny enough to give her hope.”

A funny, tragic song. He tried to get his mind around the concept of it, let alone singing as a method of subtle defiance.

To the Grih, singing was a serious business. Solemn and full of pomp.

“When you asked us to take you with us, I didn't understand the comforts you were prepared to offer,” one of the Krik called to Fiona from their cage. “Or the talents you have.”

“Comforts?” Fiona looked confused, and the Krik pointed his finger at Hal, then moved it across to her. “The gentle singing, the soft kisses.” He smacked his lips lasciviously.

She snorted. “I don't go down that road with people who hit me over the head. Or raise their hand to me in any way. Or lie.” She put a hand on her hip, and Hal could hear the underlying sarcasm in her voice. “Sorry you didn't help me now, Gerwa? You saying there actually
was
some room for me in that emergency pod?”

Her tone was challenging, derisive, and everything Hal knew about the Krik said they would react with abuse or threats, but the big Krik she'd called Gerwa gave a low, amused laugh.

“Maybe there was. That was my loss.”

She turned her back on him, but Hal stared him down, and for the first time, Gerwa's smug expression dropped away, and he took a half-step back.

“You okay?” Fiona asked with a frown.

He gave a quick nod and started pacing the cage, enjoying the sensation of strength that slowly filtered back into his limbs. He lifted a hand to his neck where his skin was still tingling and numb and was grateful the camouflage hood over his head and neck had had some protective features.

He'd been so focused on the passageway and the stairs, on the threat coming toward them. But there must have been a hidden lens near the door, someone must have seen them out there, camouflage or not, because the soldier who shot him had been ready to fire the moment the doors opened wide enough. He'd barely felt the slight change in temperature as cold air spilled from the room behind him before he went down.

“What happened after I got shot?”

Fiona shook her head. “Let's not go there now. The Krik took some of the pressure off us, at least. They didn't know what to do with so many intruders all at once.”

Hal narrowed his gaze at her, but he wasn't going to insist she tell him how they'd disarmed her with the Krik and the Tecran listening in.

She suddenly blinked, lifted her head a fraction, and then started to sing another song.

He had the strong sense she was listening to someone, and then he realized she was talking to Eazi, and disguising it as a song in her own language.

He frowned, and lifted a hand to his ear, to find his earpiece had been taken. Fiona's, it seemed, had not.

Fiona came toward him, flicking her fingers in a tiny movement to indicate he move back. He complied until they were in the corner of the cage furthest from the lens, and in a deep fall of shadow.

“Eazi is in the lens feed at last,” she murmured as she stepped into his arms, her breath warming against his neck. “So we'll need to sit down in plain sight and not move for a few minutes so he can create a loop to fool them.”

“Can he see what was in that room we were trying to break into?” Hal knew for sure whatever was there was something Battle Center would be interested in.

“I saw it myself before they dragged us down here. It's a surveillance room. Eazi says from what he saw from the lens on my shirt, they're tracking the traffic in the Balco system, and listening in to the comms on the planet.”

“And the self-destruct protocol?”

The Krik were making a noise now, a sort of high-pitched chant, and Hal looked over at them. They were all riveted by the sight of Fiona in his arms.

He turned, taking her with him, so she was in the corner, and his back was all the Krik could see.

The chant got louder, even more wild.

“They are so scary,” she said, and something in the pragmatic, serious tone she used forced a laugh out of him.

“Easy for you to laugh.” Her face was stern, but her eyes danced. “They don't have kinky ideas about you.”

“No. They just want me dead,” he agreed.

She winced, and half-lifted a hand to her ear before she dropped it. No sense letting the Tecran know she had an earpiece. “All right,” she said in exasperation. “Eazi says from what he can find in the system, they set the self-destruct thing up in a hurry, and the only way to stop it is to find the actual device that would be activated. He doesn't know where it is, and we can hardly stumble around looking for it. We certainly can't go back to that room without weapons or camouflage, there are at least five Tecran in there at all times.”

“So we get out of here.” Hal would have made that call anyway. Fiona wasn't safe here. Never had been, but before, with their weapons and camouflage, they'd had a chance. Now, with nothing, any foray back into the facility would have little chance of success.

“Yes. At least for now. So let's go sit in the light and look bored for five minutes or so, and Eazi can do his thing.” She straightened, waiting for him to move out of her way.

The Krik had fallen quiet, but Hal could still feel their gaze. He wanted to shield Fiona from them, because somehow her behavior toward him had incited something in them.

His thoughts must have been clear because she sighed. “No choice. It doesn't matter.”

“It does matter.” He drew her to him. “But you're right, there is no choice.”

He pulled back and they walked to the well-lit part of the cage and sat, leaning against the wall of bars, not touching or speaking.

The Krik went silent, too, as if confused by their behavior.

Hal didn't know how much of the Krik's cage the lens caught, but it suited him and Fiona if they were quiet. It would make the loop Eazi was creating more realistic.

After what felt like much longer than five minutes, Fiona lifted her head.

“Eazi says we're good,” she said as she pulled herself to her feet.

He beat her to it. “How's he getting us out?”

She pursed her lips. “He's not. He isn't in the lock system yet, although he says he's getting there.”

“Then how——” he trailed off as she slid a hand into her top and pulled out a slim device.

She grinned at him. “You didn't see it because you were pretty out of things that first time you were hit, but this baby got us out of the gallery earlier.”

“What is it?”

She turned and looked over at the Krik, who were now absolutely still. “Mine,” she said, and the smile she sent Gerwa was sharp enough to cut.

S
ometimes
, revenge
was
sweet.

Fee put her hand through the bars by the keypad to the cage and pushed it open. She walked over to the macaw's cage, opened that, too.

It looked at her, and shuffled to the back of the cage.

“You letting us out?” Gerwa asked her.

She raised a brow as she looked over at him. “What do you think?”

He bared his teeth. “That is my encryptor.”

She ignored him, held out her arm to the macaw.

It studied her back, not moving at all.

“We have to go.” Hal stood right behind her.

“I know, but we have to take the macaw with us. I just can't leave it.”

He made a sound of frustration, stepped around her and lunged, grabbing the bird in his big hands and pulling it out. It was obviously struggling, but he was holding it firmly enough, gently enough, that it wasn't hurting itself.

“Right, now let's go.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“You wouldn't have it if not for me,” Gerwa called.

“Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough to trust you not to try and attack both of us the moment I open your door?” Fee slid it back into her bra.

Hal was standing beside her, and he took a step toward the Krik's cage.

“Don't worry. I'll be back for you,” he said to them. “You won't be in here for too long.” His voice was low, vibrating with rage.

Gerwa tried to sneer at him, but the gesture fell flat when he swallowed convulsively.

Hal tore his gaze from the Krik and then turned.

They started jogging toward the stairs.

“You got that device from them on the
Fasbe
?” Hal's voice was suspiciously neutral.

“I did.” She couldn't help but smile again. “It's been the gift that keeps on giving.”

Hal turned to look at her, eyes wide with surprise, and she shrugged.

“If I'd told you I had it when I was on the
Illium
, I bet you someone would have taken it from me to have a look, and we wouldn't have just escaped the Tecran.”

He was about to respond when Eazi interrupted.

“There's someone down in the sub-station, guarding the tunnel. But it's still the better way out.”

She whispered the news to Hal and he stopped at the top of the stairs. “Do you still have the reflector?”

She lifted her arm to show him and he gave a relieved nod.

“Take the bird, it's stopped struggling. I need my hands free.” He held it out to her and she carefully opened both hands and grasped hold of it.

“Okay, but I'm keeping close. Let me stand in front of you if someone shoots.”

He gave a reluctant nod and then led the way down the stairs. Fee didn't know how he moved so fast and made so little noise. She had to creep down in order not to clump.

Hal waited for her at the bottom, crouched low, trying to see what lay beyond the stairwell.

They'd only come through here maybe four or five hours earlier, but to Fee, if felt as if days had passed.

Someone moved. She could hear the shuffle of fabric and the creak of boots.

“Are you able to interfere with audio comms?” she whispered to Eazi. “So this guy can't call for help when he sees us coming?”

“Oh . . . done.” Eazi whispered back.

The guard shifted again.

Hal looked like he was wiggling a small rock loose from the bare earthen wall they were crouched against, and when he finally got it free, he threw it just in front of them.

Good idea. Let the guard come to them.

He did.

His walk was cautious; stopping, moving forward again, as if he were looking nervously around, trying to see past the pumps and monitors before he committed himself.

As hopefully everyone still thought she, Hal and the Krik were safely locked up, she guessed it was the grahudi that had them so spooked.

“Commander Dai just hailed the facility.” Eazi's voice was like a soft sigh in her ear. “It appears he's been out with a hand-picked squad to check where the Krik came from. They've found the emergency pod and are returning to base. As soon as he gets in, he wants to talk to the prisoners, and they're going to find you are gone.”

As the guard was too close for her to reply without being heard, Fee did not respond, except to hover a thumbs up near the lens on her shirt, so he understood she'd got it.

The guard stopped in front of the small rock, incongruously lying in the middle of the floor, and looked slowly up at the ceiling, which was solid metal, crisscrossed with thin blue wire and the occasional light. His shoulders slumped in relief when he didn't find a grahudi looking back down at him.

Hal moved, leaping from their hiding place, smashing the guard to the floor. The Tecran screeched as he went down, the noise causing the macaw to struggle in her hands.

It was big and much stronger than she'd thought, and she battled to keep hold of it without hurting it.

She moved forward, dancing around the tangle of legs as Hal hammered a punch to the guard's face.

She kicked his shockgun away from him, and Hal flipped him on his stomach and then pulled the restraints from the back of the soldier's pants and secured him.

Hal was breathing hard, but there was a satisfaction on his face she guessed came from being shot twice and locked up, and now finally having a chance to fight back.

“Eazi says the commander's on his way to interrogate us.” Fee waited for Hal to scoop up the guard's shockgun.

He checked the charge, changed it, and shot the moaning guard in what seemed like one easy move.

The Tecran slumped into unconsciousness.

“You okay to run?” Hal asked her. “Run fast?”

She nodded, thinking that was her line, given she'd gotten out of this incursion without a scratch.

Hal let her take the lead. He was watching her back, she realized, and making sure he didn't leave her behind. His legs being so much longer than hers.

The tunnel was steeper than she remembered, but now, of course, she was going uphill, rather than down.

The wind from outside blew grit into her eyes and seemed to be trying to push her back.

She didn't dare stop to catch her breath or even slow down. Hal's presence at her back, the knowledge that he was reining himself in to match her stride, was a spur to her, making her push herself harder than she thought she was capable of.

By the time they burst out of the tunnel, she was struggling to breathe and her throat and eyes felt as if they'd been painted with grit.

“They just realized you're gone,” Eazi told her. “They aren't happy.” He paused. “Commander Dai's demanding to look at the lens feed, which I promptly hid away, but that lieutenant from earlier told him who you were and what you were wearing. He's guessed you came from the Class 5.”

“What is it?” Hal asked her, and Fee realized she'd been getting slower and slower as she communicated with Eazi.

“They know we're gone, and they know at least I came from the Class 5.”

Hal was leading the way, now, up behind the facility, keeping below the horizon as they picked their way around rocks and sand dunes toward the drone.

“So what are they going to do now?”

Fee tried to suck in enough air to run and talk as she listened to Eazi. “Eazi's lost visuals on Dai because he's left the storage room, but he can hear him coordinating various teams to guard the exits.”

“If he's worked out you're from the Class 5, he's got to be pretty close to hitting that button.” Hal didn't even sound winded.

“I have a solution.” Eazi's voice, for the last few hours so similar to her own cadence, so much friendlier, was suddenly back to Mr. Roboto mode.

“What have you got planned?” Her voice must have given away her sudden fear, because Hal looked back at her, face set in grim lines.

Behind them, a strange noise rose up, and Fee stumbled to a stop, turned to look. “What is that?”

“The dome is opening.” Hal pulled her closer to the rock that loomed over them, blocking any view of the facility.

The roar of a runner's engine filled the air, and Fee looked up to see it head straight upward.

“They aren't coming to look for us?”

“I think they're going to check on the Class 5. Be sure of what's going on before they blow it up.” Hal's voice was tense.

“I think the captain is right,” Eazi said. “I have no choice but to strike first.”

“What are you going to do?” Fee asked him.

“I'm going to obliterate the facility before that runner gets here. Hopefully, that will destroy the kill switch at the same time.”

Hal looked at her, cocked an eyebrow.

“He's going to fire on the facility.” There was an implacability about the way he had spoken. “Eazi, at least warn them so they can get out.”

“No. They'll be even more likely to hit the button, then. If they know I'm in the facility's systems, they may not wait for the runner to confirm I'm no longer theirs.”

He was right. She closed her eyes and struggled with the idea that the Krik, the Tecran, whatever animals were left in the storage room, were all dead.

Hal seemed to be taking it a lot more philosophically. He was looking toward the facility thoughtfully. “I'd have preferred to have brought Battle Center down on the Tecran for this, and that'll be harder if it's a smoldering ruin, but I agree. It's the best move Eazi can make.”

Fee clasped the macaw closer to her chest. Thank goodness she hadn't decided to go back for it later.

“I would suggest you keep moving as fast as you can,” Eazi told her.

Almost as if he'd heard him, Hal grabbed her hand and started jogging toward the drone again.

They had just reached the drone, running fast down the slope toward it, when she saw a flash of pale red light and skidded to a halt, struggling to keep her balance on the loose sand with her hands full of parrot.

Behind them, the facility turned into a massive pillar of flame, and a low, flat boom caused the drone to vibrate in the sand.

Fee stared at it, mesmerized, when from above; high, high in the heavens, a second, gargantuan explosion followed.

The sound was indescribable. It rolled like the shout of Thor across the sky, so deep and big, she felt it in her bones.

Fee lifted her face heavenward, saw long, fiery trails of flame. “What's happened, Eazi?” She could only whisper.

She saw Hal's face, felt her heart stutter. “Eazi?”

There was no answer.