Daywards (15 page)

‘Dara, isn't it?' The newcomer's voice was deep and pleasantly modulated. Dara fixed him with a glare and remained mute.

‘My name is Anders Blin. I'm the Acting Prelate of New London City.'

‘Good for you,' Dara observed. The man didn't even blink.

‘I'm hoping we can talk.'

She'd never heard of New London City. The only city she'd heard Ma Saria or any of the old-timers refer to was Port.

‘We can talk, just as soon as you let me off this table.'

Blin smiled. ‘That's not possible for the moment, I'm afraid. But before too much longer we should be able to restore you to your usual self and return you to your people.'

‘Where are they?'

‘Safe. Most of them, anyway.'

‘Most?'

The man's eyes narrowed slightly and Dara sensed an odd tension in the air. Behind the Prelate's shoulder, Drake leaned forward, a subconscious gesture that betrayed his concern. He didn't speak, though. It appeared that Anders Blin was going to do all the talking.

‘Several members of your … clan, I believe you call it, are missing. Until earlier this evening we'd all but given up hope of finding them. Actually, we'd assumed that you were with them, but then you turned up here, out of the blue, and now we're hoping you'll help us locate the others.'

‘Why?'

‘Why?' A furrow of confusion creased Blin's forehead. ‘To bring them in, of course. For their own safety. They're just two children and one old lady and without our support there's little chance of them surviving on their own for long.'

Children. And one old lady. A faint flutter of excitement began to form in the back of Dara's mind.

‘Who are you looking for, then?'

This time Drake answered. ‘Your brother, Jaran.' He glanced quickly down at his panel. ‘Also your cousin Eyna and the old woman named Saria. We're particularly concerned about her.'

‘How come?'

Dara caught the quick glance that flashed between the Prelate and Drake.

‘She's very sick, Dara. The sort of disease that comes with age, but, if we can find her soon enough, we have the ability to help her.

I bet you do,
Dara thought. The lie was so transparent that she couldn't believe they expected her to swallow it. ‘Anybody else?'

‘No, just those three. Everyone else is safely under our protection. Once we're done here, you'll be able to join them.'

Dara toyed with the notion of handing them Jaran. If she described where she'd last seen him, she was certain it wouldn't take them long to send out a couple of those drone thingies to hunt him down. The thought had some appeal.

But no. Jaran – the shi-head – might be an idiot, but he was still her brother. Anyway, with a bit of luck, Ma Saria would get to him first and, Dara thought, if she was in Jaran's position she'd almost rather face the Nightpeople than that. Above her, the two men were still waiting, expectantly. Behind them, Raj hovered, apparently not important enough to warrant a place in the conversation.

‘Well, Dara?' Blin prompted after a couple of seconds. ‘Have you seen any of them?'

‘Me? Nah. Sorry.'

She enjoyed watching the disappointment in their eyes.

‘Then would you mind telling us where you've been for the last week? And why you chose to turn up here tonight?'

‘I've been hunting. Out near the saltwater.'

‘The ocean? But that's a two-day walk from here.'

‘I do it all the time.'

‘They just let you go on your own?'

‘I did it plenty of times with my father. And anyway, who's going to stop me, eh?'

‘I thought your Uncle Xani was in charge of those arrangements.'

‘Xani?' Dara snorted derisively. ‘Who told you that? Him, I bet. He likes to think he's in charge, but really he's no more important than anyone else.'

‘You're saying he doesn't make those decisions?'

Dara laughed, drawing what little pleasure she could from damaging Xani's reputation.

‘He can't even handle full daylight. He's barely half viable, so most of the day I can do whatever I want or go wherever I please. And I'm not the only one, either. What makes you think we'd put someone in charge who can't even help with the daily hunting? You think we're stupid?'

Neither Blin nor Drake bothered to hide the consternation from their expressions. Behind them, Raj simply raised one eyebrow.

‘Can you suggest anywhere we might look for Jaran, Eyna and Saria?' Blin changed the subject abruptly before Drake could say another word.

Dara tried to look thoughtful for several moments, before answering.

‘Not really. Ma Saria always used to talk about flying off to the moon, but I doubt she can actually do it.'

Again, the two senior men exchanged a quick, concerned glance. This time, though, Raj didn't bother to hide his amusement. His mouth was hidden behind his mask, but his eyes crinkled in a silent grin.

Blin stepped back and ran his hand idly through his hair, thinking. Then he leaned down into Dara's face, and dropped his voice to a hard whisper. ‘I think you're being deliberately difficult, Dara.'

She held his grey gaze and tried to look as brave as was possible under the circumstances.

‘I think you probably have a lot to tell us, but for some strange reason you've decided to be …' – he paused – ‘… obstructionist. And I don't have the time or the patience to indulge you in that sort of behaviour. So I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what I want to know, and if you don't prove to be a little more helpful, then I'll ask Doctor Drake to take some more … serious measures with you.'

Behind him, all traces of mirth vanished from Raj's eyes. For several seconds the silence in the room was absolute.

Then, as hard as she could, Dara spat straight up into Ander Blin's unsmiling face.

Unfortunately, her mouth was still so dry and her head so immobile that the best she could manage was a sparse spray of spittle that barely reached his mask. But it had the desired effect. Blin hurled himself backwards, almost colliding with Raj in his haste to get out of range.

‘Fine then,' he said. ‘That's a fairly clear indication of your attitude, I think.' He turned and addressed himself only to Drake. ‘I'm invoking the emergency provision laws, Drake. You may extract the information by neuro-chemical means.'

‘Those laws are supposed to be used only in certain cases of underworld activity,' Raj began, but Blin fixed him with a cold stare.

‘I don't recall asking for your opinion, Mister Raj. And, in my assessment, this is a matter of similar importance to us all. I'm also certain that Janil Mann, were he here with us, would agree.'

Without another word, the Acting Prelate of New London turned and stalked from the room. The last glimpse Dara caught of him, he had pushed his face plate back and was using his sleeve to wipe furiously at his face.

As the door closed behind Anders Blin, Dara allowed herself a moment of smug satisfaction. They might have pinned her to this table, but at least she'd put the wind up them. Her pleasure was shortlived, though. Somewhere over near the wall, the two remaining men were arguing.

‘Don't tell me you're actually going to do this?' Raj's voice was disbelieving.

‘You heard the Prelate,' Drake replied, with his usual indifferent tone. ‘It's an order.'

‘I heard the
acting
Prelate. He doesn't have the authority to make that call. You know the sort of damage neuro-chemical extraction can cause.'

‘It's not my problem.'

‘She's just a girl. If you do this to her now, then for the rest of her life she'll be …'

‘That's enough, Mister Raj!' Now Drake sounded rattled, angry. ‘You'd do well to remember the chain of command, I think.'

‘I'm not trying to undermine you, sir, but I feel it is my moral obligation to …'

‘The only moral obligation you have,' Drake interrupted, ‘is to follow your orders.'

‘Even when those orders are questionable?'

‘Mister Raj.' Drake's tone returned to its usual emotionless state. ‘You've been in the service of the city long enough to know that there is no such thing as a questionable order. An order, by definition, is just that. An order. Especially when it comes straight from the mouth of the City Prelate, acting or otherwise.'

A long silence followed this exchange. Drake's rebuke hung in the air for several minutes, and although she couldn't turn her head to see, Dara could imagine the two men eyeing one another off, each expecting the other to back down. Inevitably, it was Raj who caved in.

‘Of course, sir. Silly of me to forget.'

Some of the tension left the room.

‘Understandable. We're in an unusual situation here and that calls for unusual measures. And, of course, you're a family man, which probably clouds your judgement.' Drake's conciliatory tone sounded forced, even to Dara, who was unable to see his face. Then she remembered what Raj had told her:
everything here is monitored.
The game they were playing became clear: neither man believed a word he was saying; it was all for the benefit of anyone who might be listening in.

‘I shall need to return to LS3 and requisition the appropriate materials for the interrogation,' Drake said. ‘You are to wait outside, Mr Raj, and monitor the subject by remote listening only. You are not, under any circumstances, to enter this room without my supervision. Is that understood?'

‘Of course, sir. Though it would be a good idea to decrease her fluid line, and also to drain and remove the catheter now, to decrease the risks of pulmonary instability during the initial catatonia. She's quite hydrated again, and the most effective conditions for a cortical probe are when the subject is in slight fluid imbalance.'

Drake considered this for a second, before agreeing. ‘Very well. Do it.'

Raj took a couple of steps towards her, then spoke again. ‘I am capable of completing this without supervision, sir. You can monitor the room by remote, if you're worried.'

‘I shall be doing that anyway, Mr Raj. But I think it best if we leave at the same time, to protect ourselves from possible accusations of misconduct.'

‘As you wish, sir.'

Dara listened to the conversation with an increasingly sickening sensation in her belly. She had no idea what they were talking about, but the overall tone was unmistakable. As he reached the table, Raj glanced down at her face, and she almost missed the quick wink and almost-imperceptible nod that he flicked down at her. Then he disappeared from sight again and Dara felt the cold stream up her arm slow.

‘I'll leave just a slight flow, for her comfort, if you approve,' Raj said to Drake, as though asking for approval.

‘Provided it won't interfere with data extraction.'

‘I don't think so.'

Then he moved around to the bottom of the table, fiddled with something else, and again Dara had the uncomfortable sensation of her bladder relieving itself of its own accord.

‘Done.'

‘Good.'

Dara listened as the men's footsteps moved over to the doorway. First one exited and then the other, but the door didn't close right away. Instead, Drake's voice floated back to her.

‘It will take me about fifteen minutes to gather the items I require for this procedure, Miss Dara. During that time, I suggest that you have a long think about your refusal to assist us with these few trivial matters, because if you are still being obstinate when I return, you will leave me with no choice but to proceed. That will be a pity, because eighty-five per cent of the people who've been subjected to this particular, very effective, method of interrogation have never emerged from the induced catatonic state into which they were placed. And those who did wake up were often … rather damaged. A little limited in their ability to perform basic actions like walking, speaking and eating, for example. Please think hard about whether the price is worth it.'

Then the door hissed shut.

A hopeless blanket of despair settled over Dara. She didn't doubt for a moment that Drake was serious. But even if she told them about Jaran, she had no idea where Ma Saria and Eyna were, and it seemed unlikely they'd believe that.

She blinked as a sheen of tears blurred across her eyes.

This was strange, because there'd been no response from her tear ducts when Drake had blasted them with that red light. In fact, her eyes had felt unnaturally dry and itchy ever since.

Then her fingertips began tingling. At first the sensation was faint and uncomfortable, like ants crawling across her skin, but it quickly grew in intensity and began to spread up her arms and into her shoulders, carrying with it a warm, dull ache.

Her toes were tingling, too.

The feeling seeped from her shoulders into her neck and, without warning, her head flopped sideways, so that she was suddenly facing the doorway. Instinctively, she tried to turn the other way and this time, to her delight, her body responded to the command from her brain, and she turned her head to look left.

Her left arm twitched – a real, actual movement and not a phantom tug of muscle-memory such as she'd had under the influence of the paralytic.

Dara almost shouted with joy, but stopped herself.

Everything is monitored.
And Drake had specifically told them that he'd be listening in.

All the better. Dara grinned inwardly. When it came to being silent, she was second to none.

Dara lay waiting as her body came slowly back to life. The experience was far from comfortable, accompanied by a series of sharp cramps and spasms, and she had to fight the urge to try and rise too soon. If she did, if she tried to move before her body was fully her own again, the chances were that she'd crash or collapse into something, and then it would all be over.

Eventually she felt strong enough to risk sitting up and with trembling arms she pushed herself upright. Now she could look around properly.

The room, as she'd suspected, was one of the semi-opaque domes she'd seen dotted around the Eye. It was one of the smaller ones, she judged, perhaps just five or six metres in diameter. Overhead, the hexagonal panels glowed with uniform brightness, so that the light inside was even and shadowless. Along one wall a long, curved bench was covered with various pieces of tech. In the other wall was set the entrance door – a blank rectangle made of the same plastic material as everything else.

Leaning forward, Dara was caught by a sharp tug at her left hand and she realised that the fluid line Raj had put in was still in place. Holding the hand up, she fiddled with the small connector before dislodging it by the simple method of grabbing it firmly and ripping it out. It popped from the back of her hand with a small gush of blood and a bright stab of pain.

She went to swing sideways from the bed and found herself tangled in another clear tube, this one running upwards from a device on the floor between her feet and connected into her left leg. Unlike the one she'd just removed, this tube was thicker, capable of carrying a higher volume of fluid, and the connecting canula was securely taped into place just above her ankle. There was no way she would be able to pull it out.

Dara was pondering this, when she noticed two odd things. Firstly, the tube into her leg had been clamped; at the bottom of the canula, so close that she'd thought it was part of the canula itself, a small metal surgical clamp had been locked into place over the soft plastic tubing, effectively cutting off the flow of whatever it was entering her body.

Secondly, a small friction cutter had been slipped onto the table between her thighs, where it wouldn't have been visible to anyone not standing at her feet.

Raj.

Without any hesitation, Dara grabbed the cutter, slipped it over the tubing below the clamp and triggered the blade. It sliced through the tube neatly, which fell away onto the floor, and immediately a gentle but steady flow of clear liquid began forming a widening pool below the table.

She was free.

But free to go where? The only way out seemed to be the door, but somewhere on the other side of it she knew Drake was waiting, quite possibly on his way back here even now.

On shaky legs she tottered across to the nearest glowing wall panel, the simple act of keeping her footsteps light and silent a much bigger effort than it should have been. She pressed the panel tentatively. These structures were clearly temporary, designed to collapse, so perhaps she could just pull a panel out.

No such luck, though. The luminescent plastic, which felt oddly warm and cold at the same time, proved as unyielding as the plascrete walls of the dome back in the city.

Her time now running seriously short, there was no other option but the door. It took only a moment to creep across and locate the simple pressure panel mounted on the wall beside it.

Here goes,
she thought, and placed her sweaty palm against the cold plate, hoping like the sky that there was no sort of identity scanning device attached.

Clearly there wasn't, because the door slid aside with a pneumatic hiss, and there was Mister Raj, waiting with one finger pressed against his lips.

Everything is monitored
, Dara reminded herself.

Raj turned and led her along a long, gloomy passageway – one of the silvery connections she'd seen joining the various domes and structures in the clearing. There were no windows and the only light came from small powerlamps mounted at intervals on the left-hand wall, so there was no way of knowing if it was day or night outside. Dara realised she had no idea how long she'd been kept in here.

At the end of the passageway was a T-junction, and Raj took the right-hand corridor, which ended a few steps later at a steeply angled ladder. Her guide climbed the five or six steps, triggered another pressure plate at the top, and a heavy hatch swung back to reveal a brightly lit corridor, different from the temporary silver ones. Before climbing through, Raj signalled Dara to stay still, while he poked his head through and checked to make certain the way was clear. Then he moved on and Dara scurried up and through behind him, before the hatchway closed again.

She guessed they must now be inside one of the three large structures. Nothing here had the collapsible look of the dome and the passages. The passageway into which they'd stepped was made of solid metal, with coloured pipes running along the walls and all manner of strange tech everywhere.

There wasn't time for sightseeing, though, because Raj had hurried ahead, moving with increasing urgency that encouraged Dara to speed up her own pace. Halfway along the corridor he stopped, turned and then knelt at Dara's feet. From a pocket on his jumpsuit, he pulled a large patch of flimsy looking material and peeled a transparent backing strip from it. Then he took hold of the canula that was still attached to her leg, and which she had already bumped painfully several times since she'd left the dome. He twisted it slightly and then pulled the tape off it in one quick, smooth gesture.

Dara clenched her teeth against the expected pain, but none came. By the time she looked down again, Raj had removed the canula from her leg and applied the fabric, which adhered to her skin, stopping any bleeding.

Then, with a satisfied nod, he triggered a doorway in the side of the corridor. Above it, a red light began flashing and the door slowly wound open to reveal a small, tight space behind it, which he gestured her into.

For the first time since having her body returned to her, Dara hesitated. The flashing light seemed ominous and the room was little more than a dark, unlit cupboard. What if all this was a trap, some elaborate ruse to scare her into cooperation?

One glance at the worried expression in her companion's eyes, though, and Dara decided to take the risk.

She stepped past Raj and through the doorway. The room was only just big enough for her to stand upright. Raj leaned in and spoke for the first time, his voice a bare whisper in her ear.