Equinox (13 page)

“Ow!” she hissed, then froze. Pip was standing with his back against the door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

He had a grubby black pack slung over one shoulder and looked like he’d been running. His dark hair was messy, ruffled. A patch of sweat darkened the chest of his blue T-shirt, a darker blue than his eyes that watched her with a degree of wariness.

“What are you doing here?” she said. “Aren’t you supposed to be back up north?” She wanted to stand up but that might make him think his presence bothered her, so she just sat, trying to appear casual while her heart went a million kilometres an hour. He slipped the pack off and came further into the room, dropping it on a chair.

“Is it clean?” he said. His gaze darted around the room, frowning, worried. She knew what he meant.

“There’re no trackers or listeners,” she said. “We check.”

“Right.” But he was still frowning. “I heard about what happened.”

“So you came to see if I said anything about you?”

“What? No.” He looked surprised. “I came because–”

Rosie cut him off. “It doesn’t matter.” She picked up the laundry basket and went to the clothes unit. It had finished some time when she was asleep, thank God, because it gave her something to do. “You can think what you like, but you shouldn’t be here. We had two operatives follow us from Senate Prime. Good ones.”

“Rosie, do you really think I’m worried you’d tell Helios about me?”

She shrugged and pulled a pair of jeans out of the unit. “How should I know?”

“Well, I’m not.”

Rosie didn’t answer. She drew out a handful of her knickers and shoved them quickly in the basket before he saw. She could feel him staring at her, agitated, waiting for her to say something. He was going to be waiting a long time.

“Right,” he said after a while. “You’re still mad at me then.”

Rosie tried for a short laugh, but didn’t succeed. “I think I’ve got bigger things to worry about, thanks very much.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Doesn’t Riley need you up north?” Rosie kept yanking out clothes and dropping them in the basket.

“Actually, that was kind of what I came to see you about.”

“Going behind Riley’s back now, are you?”

“No, this is about Riley.” His voice was tight and angry.

“If you want advice about how to deal with him, I’m the last person to ask,” she said.

“For Christ’s sake, Rosie, something’s going on. He thinks he’s been compromised, that Helios might know where he’s hiding.”

Rosie stopped, a shirt clutched in one hand, and slowly turned to face him. “What?”

“He’s not totally sure, but that doesn’t matter. He said he’s made plans – contingencies – but I can’t get anything out of him about what that means.”

Rosie swallowed a sudden flood of saliva. Was this her fault? Had she led them there that day when she’d burst in on him?

“What is it?” Pip came closer. “Do you know something? Has he told you?”

She shook her head. “No, but …”

“But what?”

She dropped the shirt into the basket, not looking at him. “I don’t know.” She went back to pulling the last of the clothes from the machine.

“Rosie.” He was behind her and his voice was hesitant, hopeful. “He won’t tell me, but he might tell you. If you ask him …”

He was so close, if she leaned back, she knew she’d feel his chest against her, his solid warmth. But he didn’t want her, not like that, he’d made that pretty clear. A tight ball of pain formed inside her. He didn’t want her, but he didn’t mind asking her to do things for him. She threw a final bra into the basket and slammed the door closed then spun around. “This might come as a surprise to you, Pip, but he doesn’t tell anyone much.”

“I know, but this is different.”

“And you expect me to find out? I’ll just get right on that, shall I? But how will I tell you if I find anything, since I’m not in the Pip and Riley secret club?”

Pip went very still and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “I tried to tell you before, it’s not like that.”

“Really? You know what, it doesn’t matter.” She stepped around him to head for the door, but he was in front of her, blocking her way.

“Wait, will you? Can you just let me explain?”

“Fine, go ahead.” He drew back, clearly not expecting her to say that. “I’m waiting,” she said.

“It’s not that easy.” He swallowed and for the first time looked unsure.

“Good job.” Rosie tried to push past, ramming him with the basket, but he grabbed it and held on.

“Let me finish, will you?”

“Can you?”

His face darkened. “The reason I asked Riley not to tell you I was in Newperth was to protect you. Helios will do almost anything to get at me. I didn’t want you in the firing line. You’re safer away from me.”

“So, what are you doing here then? And by the way, I don’t need protecting, thanks all the same. Dalton’s been teaching me some great moves.”

He blinked. Why had she said that? It had made it sound like, well … She felt heat spreading up her neck.

“Dalton?” Pip said.

“Yes, I think you’ve met.” She tried to wrench the basket of clothes away but he wouldn’t let go.

“You mean Dalton Curtis, Central pretty boy?”

She wasn’t sure she liked the way he said that. “Yes, Dalton, and he said he knew you, by the way.”

“We’ve met.” He let go of the basket, his tone cool. “And he’s been teaching you … moves?”

The way he said it made her neck even hotter. “Self-defence,” she said. “In his gym.”

Rosie saw a quick flash of what might have been hurt in his eyes, but it was quickly smoothed over and the cocky amused look he liked to wear came back. “He goes to the Academy too, I suppose.” He smirked.

“He’s doing the pilot course.”

“Of course he is.” He picked up his bag and slung it on his shoulder. “I just thought you should know what Riley said – you know, if you’ve got time between pretty boy and all your training to think about it.”

“It’s not like that.” Rosie glared at him, but he just gave her a half-smile and turned to the door.

“Hey, I’ve got nothing against pretty boys – someone needs to buy the hair glitter. I’ve gotta go, got a corporation to bring down. Oh, and by the way …” His smile turned glacial. “That stuff you said about me and the cure? I have been trying to make one. I haven’t found a way yet, but I will. Just thought you’d like to know. Look out for the snipers.”

Then he was gone and Rosie was left staring at the door swinging closed behind him.

It was just after seven when Rosie and Aunt Essie left the apartment the next morning.

“You want to go to Fat Fareeks or The Bun Palace for breakfast?” Aunt Essie said.

“Wherever.”

“Fine, Fareeks then. After, we’ll go look for some new boots; mine are falling apart.”

Rosie nodded. Essie was saying it for the benefit of any operatives, Senate or Helios, who were following them, because after breakfast they’d actually be heading to Riley’s. By then they should have dumped the tails.

She shifted her bag strap from her shoulder to across her body, so the bag bounced against her hip, and shoved her com in her pocket. She’d told her aunt about Pip’s visit and what he’d said about Riley, but they couldn’t have left the apartment any earlier without raising suspicion. As a result, both of them were stupidly tense. Rosie was also confused and gutted that she’d accused Pip of not caring about a MalX cure when clearly he did. He’d told her that like he wanted to hurt her. Maybe he was jealous about Dalton. Could he be?

The thought tormented her as they spent two hours wending their way to Riley’s via the bun place and seven shuttle changeovers plus a few detours. It was a route Aunt Essie had mapped out and it made good use of the confusing streets of the Rim and Sunday crowds.

Sunday was prime swap day and hordes of people were out towing carts of goods they could exchange with others for food, tech or – most highly prized – water. In front of practically every apartment rows of people hunkered down behind makeshift stalls, haggling loudly, getting into fights and blocking traffic. It was after nine when they finally got across the river on a boat that Aunt Essie occasionally used.

The day had turned blazing hot and sweat dripped off Rosie’s nose as she followed her aunt up the cracked mud of the embankment. They’d been dropped in a shallow bay alongside the belt of scrub and trees that ran outside the wall of the estates. It was closer to Riley’s and away from the surveillance, so they didn’t need to use any idents. They ducked into the trees and reached the open swathe of ploughed ground fast, sprinting across it and into the estate.

Rosie couldn’t shake off a growing feeling of unease as they crossed the deserted streets and was checking constantly over her shoulder.

They reached Riley’s house and pushed through the weeds down the side. It looked the same, but something felt off. The broken statue was there, the back door, dust-covered as usual. “It feels empty,” she said.

“Certainly does.” Aunt Essie pulled a small pulse gun from a leg clutch under her pants and led the way.

They checked every room on the ground floor. Upstairs, Riley’s operations room had been cleaned out. Pieces of holo deck were scattered across the floor along with disabled computer tablets. Shredded bits of paper that appeared singed were everywhere, and there was no sign of Riley.

Aunt Essie put her gun away and walked to the desk, parts crunching under her boots. “This is all too methodical.”

“Riley did this.” Rosie’s throat tightened. “Aunt Essie–” Rosie stopped, pulled up short as a flashing light caught her attention. “What’s that?” She stepped towards it. It was a tiny white light flashing under one of the ruined holo desks. Aunt Essie turned and followed her gaze.

“Get out!” Aunt Essie yelled.

Rosie flung herself back through the door and half-jumped, half-ran down the stairs, her aunt right behind her. They had almost reached the bottom when the bomb exploded. A massive force flung Rosie off her feet and into the doorframe. She screamed, but the sound of the explosion was so loud, she couldn’t hear her voice. Objects fell on her, scraping, scratching, sharp short pains raining down on her back as she rolled, trying to protect her head with her arms. It lasted only a few seconds and she lay stunned, coughing from all the dust and smoke.

Aunt Essie grabbed her arm. Her face was streaked with blood and dust and she was shouting, but Rosie couldn’t hear over the ringing in her ears. A lancing pain stabbed through the left side of her head. Essie pulled her to her feet, but something was dragging at her. Her bag was trapped under debris, the strap still on her shoulder. Rosie shook it off and they helped each other out of the house. The stink of burning was in the air and they almost fell down the back steps, turning to see the top storey on fire.

“The river,” Aunt Essie rasped, and they ran to the scrub behind the house. All Rosie could think of was that if Riley had set that bomb, it meant he knew Helios was coming.

A hollow ringing still filled her ears, but now she caught the sound of heavy vehicles, then overhead the beat of blades. A helijet. They crashed through the shrubs and under the trees. Aunt Essie sagged against her, almost falling. Blood was dripping down one of her legs. Fear flooded Rosie and she stopped, but Aunt Essie shook her head, her face pinched with effort.

“Keep going.” Aunt Essie pushed her forwards. Rosie held her up as best she could and shoved through the low prickly shrubs. The whump of the helijet was close. Her chest was tight with panic and she forced herself to focus.
Get to the river
. She could see it now, through the trees.

They staggered to the water’s edge, the ache in Rosie’s head intensifying with every step. A thick belt of reeds grew in the shallows and they crawled into them, their hands and knees sinking into the stinking muddy sand just as the helijet swooped over, its blades whirring, sending the reeds thrashing over their heads. Sharp pain cut through her skull and Rosie stifled a cry. She put her head in her hands, trying to press it out. The jet passed right over the top of them. She didn’t dare look up.
Please don’t let them be using any ground-scanning equipment
.

Ten seconds went past, but it felt more like a hundred as Rosie battled agonising pain. She couldn’t remember anything hitting her that hard in the head. Dimly, she registered the sound of fire retardant being dumped on the house.

“Fire jet,” Aunt Essie croaked. Rosie almost cried with relief. It was just an automated response jet. That didn’t mean Helios wasn’t around though. The pain in her skull subsided, dulling down to a throb, and she squinted at her aunt.

Essie lay curled up among the reeds. Her eyes were nearly closed, her breathing short. A piece of metal was embedded in one thigh. Rosie crawled over and inspected the wound.

“Leave the metal in,” Aunt Essie said hoarsely. “Bleed like a bitch if you try to take it out.”

“I’ll try to stop the bleeding if I can.” Rosie wiped her muddy, wet hands on her top, then stripped off her over shirt and tied it around her aunt’s leg above the wound. The bleeding slowed but didn’t totally stop.

“Don’t panic,” Aunt Essie said. “I’ve had worse.”

The fear that was working its way up Rosie’s throat was hard to swallow down. Her aunt might still be talking, but she was pale. They couldn’t stay here.

“I’m going to have a look,” she whispered. Rosie crouched, almost lying down, and began to slide back through the reeds towards the riverbank.

Her chin was just above the level of the water. It stunk of rotting weed, dirt and salt. Tiny insects buzzed around her face. She slithered between the reeds until she was close enough to see the estate through the stalks. She couldn’t see the house but there was a thick drift of black smoke where it had been. There was no one on the immediate riverbank but there were people on the other side of the trees. Four. All in uniforms that looked like Senate. They had to be an estate security team here because of the fire. They weren’t the only ones there though – three more people were melting through the scrub line between the river and the house. The Senate guards were oblivious to them. They were all in black and she was one hundred per cent certain they were Helios. They looked like grunts, Pip’s nickname for Helios’s stimulant-enhanced, implant-weapon enabled, trained killers. Rosie very carefully retraced her steps. Her muscles were quivering by the time she made it back.