Kicking Ashe (20 page)

“I think the lower bay might be intact if we can get to it.”

Lower bay. Right. “Because?”

“There is an in-atmosphere craft, stocked with additional emergency supplies.”

“Oh, we are so going to get to it,” Ashe felt her optimism make a minor comeback, “because the impossible—”

“—just takes longer.”

His grin shaved years—and layers of grim—off his face. He hadn’t forgotten his brother. Signs of shock lingered around his eyes and in them. She respected that. He wanted to help his brother. She’d want to help hers, even though they’d also top her list of suspects. Could Timrick be on the Zelk ship?
Keep your enemies close. They are easier to find and shoot.

If they survived this adventure, it might be interesting to figure out how many family mantras involved shooting.

Ninety percent give or take a tenth of a percentage point.

How can you not know exactly?

They seem to be fluctuating with time.

So your time databases aren’t updating, but the family mantra list…is?

It is a mystery.

“We might be able to reach that side of the ship from inside the building.”

Ashe followed him around the crash debris field, then along the parallel street. Dust puffed into the air each time his boots made contact with the cracked surface. Her boots probably did, too, but she wasn’t looking at her boots.

You are not looking at his boots either.

She had been, but apparently that didn’t count. Though there was no safe place anywhere, it was still unnerving to walk down the street with meteorites punching steadily through the clouds. The whistle of the incoming meteorites blended into a keening wind sound, like a winter
mirska
, howling through dead streets and broken windows—but failing to lift even a particle of dust—though their walking did disturb the dust. Creepy-plus. The sky was intermittently lit by the meteorites, though that light failed to pierce the murk close to the ground. Did that mean night approached? How to tell with the heavy cloud cover and the total lack of atmospheric data? Was it an effect of time out of synch?

Lots of questions. Zero answers. That didn’t stop her from worrying at the edges of all of them, since she had nothing to distract her except pretending it was Shan’s boots she watched as they walked. Like the buildings, weeds had attempted a comeback here in the street, but had withered into spidery lines creeping out of the cracks like hands waiting to grab them. The wind sound paused, which was creepier-plus, only to be broken by the rumble of thunder. Maybe it was just a bad weather day, but Ashe had a feeling this was as good as it got.

Shan stopped in front of the sagging entrance to the building they’d hammered and now wanted to enter. She stared into the gray rectangle, saw what might have been the remains of a door hanging off one side. Make that needed to enter. No way she wanted to go in there.

Maybe to stall, she asked, “What was this street like, you know, before?”

Shan half turned. “It is much changed, but I believe the main thoroughfare was just over there.” He shifted. “Our seat of government was there.”

“What would have been along here? Shops? Apartments?”

“No one lives—lived in the city. All lived in strata. These would have been offices.”

It wasn’t a pretty skyline, kind of didn’t look like it had ever been anything but regimented, all the buildings variations of the same shape and style. “Was it ever pretty?”

“Pretty?” He stared at her.

“The Garradians are big on pretty. Even our battle birds are—” the slow, incredulous arch of his brows slowed her, but couldn’t stop her from finishing, “—pretty.”

He blinked, then turned away. “No. It was never pretty.”

My mother didn’t have a garden.
The comment had felt odd at the time, okay, still felt odd, but seemed to mean he’d glimpsed a time with a garden.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He touched the jamb of the doorway, gave it a slight push, as if testing its integrity.

“Everyone should have a little pretty in their lives.”

He stilled, shot a flickering smile her direction, then gave a slight shake. “I will go first.”

“I’m smaller and lighter,” Ashe felt compelled to point out, though she didn’t actually mind not going first into the creepy, crumbling building. Not that she wanted to be left alone on the creepy, crumbling street either. Got her first annoyed look from Shan and raised her hands in capitulation. “You should go first.”

Ashe waited a whole two-count before she followed Shan through the doorway. Thought it was murky outside. Inside took murk to a whole new level of murk-ness. Gray dust hung in the air, like a dust storm waiting for a good head wind. Nasty had infiltrated the interior, mated with rotting to produce vile. Shan passed between lumps that might have been furniture. No way to tell. Felt no desire to find out. Because the lumps might not be furniture. No color anywhere except for shades of gray. Even the shadows fell short of black, perhaps because of a shortage of bright enough light to create gray shades.

Shan stopped at the foot of a staircase. “I wish we had more light—”

Lurch activated her suit’s head beam, almost blinding her. If Shan flinched he was over it by the time her eyes adjusted.
You did that on purpose.

I was waiting for you to recall you had it.

Which brought them back to
on purpose
.

“Sorry.” It was almost too bright, bouncing off the dust particles—Lurch adjusted it until the staircase became better defined. It looked intact. Ashe found a position that beamed the light up, while Shan tested the first step. Then the next. Minor sway turned to major as he reached the center.

“Wait until I am at the top.”

The light moved with her nod. It probably couldn’t take their combined weight, even if Lurch adjusted her suit’s gravity settings, but it was hard to wait.
Take the thought as a request to adjust my gravity settings.

Taken.

She felt gravity’s grip weaken as Shan took his time testing each step before shifting his weight up, the soft creak of wood and the thump of her heart the only sounds breaking the deep silence. Once the creak turned to a crack when he was just shy of the landing and they both froze—a place Ashe thought she already occupied. Seemed a few molecules left to freeze. He moved his foot to a different spot, shifted his weight forward a bit at a time. The step held, though it protested loudly. Then the whole staircase whined. He picked up the pace, reached the landing despite a distinct, final sway from the staircase. Or the building.

“You could wait for me.” His voice was hollow, a bit raspy. “This structure is very unstable.”

“I could if you wanted me to have a total, screaming freak out.” She’d faced the time tsunami with more dignity, but this felt different. The cold, oily air was…hostile.

Did you find the time tsunami friendly? Personally I thought it quite inimical.

Sometimes the high road was very high, but if she could have crawled up on it and hid, she would have.
I don’t care how dead this place looks, something is watching us. Like being caught in a creepy, horror vid. And you know how that goes for the girl left to wait “in safety.”

That he had no answer felt like agreement.

“Take it slowly, then. Try to put your weight where I stepped.”

Slow sucked. Matching his footsteps was easy since his boots had left clear prints in the thick dust. The staircase swayed once during her ascent, but with her weight cut in half by her suit, she made it up without a major protest from the structure. Grabbed Shan’s elbow because she needed to feel something warm and living. And cause it felt safer. Was that soft rustle the building settling? Couldn’t be the wind when there wasn’t any.

“You are cold.”

“No, well, maybe, but—” His arm circled her, pulling her in against the hard warmth of his body. “So very cold.”

Not too proud to burrow in, she pressed her face against his chest. The slow thump of his heart steadied her. He didn’t say anything about her waiting for him this time, just carried her forward with him. She liked this so she un-dug her head enough to light his way. Up close made walking a bit odd for them both, but her molecules did a happy dance. Kind felt like she floated down the hall—

You are. Your gravity settings?

Right. Better leave them. Don’t want to throw him off balance.
Meant she could close her eyes and imagine they were somewhere else.

“I believe the hull to be this direction…”

She felt him adjust their course. Took a peek. Didn’t like what she saw. One long, creepy hallway turned into another before the silver gleam of the hull pierced the gloom. Ashe directed her headlight on it. Reluctantly settled back on terra not-firma. “It looks intact on this side.”

“And I believe we are at the correct level to achieve access.” His arm dropped away. “Wait for me to see if I can reach the panel, discover if it still works.” He hesitated. “The process of opening may also disturb the building’s structure further.”

Chilled and not happy, Ashe waited until he’d taken four steps away, then padded after him. She’d keep a wise distance. And closer seemed wise. Prudent even.

You are not and have never been prudent.

And you’re the nanite who lives inside not-prudent which makes you—

He did not fill in the blank.

His bird had cut a swathe through a building already deep into the unstable zone. Without an engineering report, there was no way to tell if the sliced off hallway would hold either of them long enough to gain access to the bay. The floor made threatening sounds, and did some scary shifting, as Shan moved closer to the dull hull—and the sliced off end of the hallway. It was a pity her gravity field inhibitor couldn’t extend to Shan.

A chill, one more persistent the than others trailed down her back and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Never a good sign. Ashe pulled her weapon, because in her experience, when the hair on the back of her neck rose, shooting at something would soon follow. Turned back to the empty corridor. Light stabbed down between the walls. Nothing. Gray, gray and more gray. So why couldn’t she look away? Why did if feel as if her life depended on not looking away? She backed toward Shan not caring if the whole building came down because of it. Neither building nor the floor appeared to be impacted by her passing as Lurch cranked her gravity inhibitor higher. Her toes dragged through the dust, just enough contact to keep her moving now. The soft rustle seemed more pronounced. Or she was getting paranoid. Not that paranoia seemed contraindicated in the situation. In fact, it felt wise. When Lurch didn’t mock or disagree, the hairs on her neck rose some more.

“Ashe?”

Did—was the floor…moving?

“Yeah?” Her voice had more quiver than she liked.

“I will try the controls and if it is safe—”

Black slits, or maybe knotholes began to dot the walls and the floor, popping out of the mass of gray. Her light could be adding shadow, but the angles weren’t quite right…

“I don’t think we have time to wait for safe.” Safe was an illusion. Family saying three hundred and something. She moved her head, tracking the light across ceiling, walls and floors, her weapon following the same path. The rustle increased in intensity, as if the light bothered something. Or attracted it. Hard to know which. She stabbed the light down toward her feet.

“Bug.” The word came out rather squeaky. A big sucker, too. Long as her forearm. Had the general shape of a cockroach, which didn’t surprise her or Lurch. Bugs were often the last to life form to go when a world died and cockroaches were probably the most persistent of those bugs. She shifted her light, realized the bug was the leading edge of a swarm. In the words of some dead ancestor, it was a target rich environment. “Lots and lots of bugs.”

I hate bugs.
Lurch boosted her adrenal function and brought her shields online, though they didn’t actually know they’d work against bugs, since they were designed to deflect energy bursts. Pinchers the size of hands flexed just below the eyes. A clacking joined the rustle, or maybe it engulfed it.

“Keep backing toward me. When I tell you, throw yourself backwards.”

Ashe sped up her light sweep. It seemed to be holding them at bay. Or they liked to play with their food. She stepped back, felt the floor angle down. She must be close to where his ship had sliced through the building. Kept the light moving. The walls, floor, all of it appeared fluid gray—though the bugs did not seem to be fast moving—with specks of black that were probably bug eyes.
I hate bug eyes.

“Wait.” His voice was a breath of sound not far from her ear. Air shifted as his free hand, now holding his weapon, moved past her shoulder. She adjusted her line of fire. In the small space, it might work for long enough. A feeler from one of the creatures brushed her hand and a small squeak of horror made it past her clenched lips.

Heard the high whine of metal on metal as the bay doors began to open. The building shuddered. Debris tumbled down, enveloping them in gray dust, muting the force of her light. The sound the bugs made changed, turned more shrill, more insistent. Lurch boosted her light just in time to catch the bugs taking flight.
They fly. I hate flying bugs more than anything.

She’d have screamed but didn’t want one to fly into her mouth. She fired, the energy beam stabbing down the hall. Shan did, too. The bugs fell, igniting a feeding frenzy among the not-dead ones. The floor turned into a heaving swarm of wriggling gray bodies. Frantic clanking increased, too, just in case it wasn’t terrifying enough. The wind of their movement blew dust back in her face. The floor sagged, started to give way.

“Now!”

Ashe threw herself back. Light enough to almost take flight, she sailed back. Hit a panel or something. Felt sharp stab of metal in her back. Started to rebound forward. Too light.
Give me some gravity—
Lurch got the memo before she could finish thinking it. Cut the inhibitor. She dropped like a rock. Felt the jolt from her pelvis to the top of her head. The angle of the bird meant a slide across metal into some jagged edges. Couldn’t move or breathe for several seconds. When she eased clear, reached back to check, her hand felt warm and wet. Didn’t have to look to know it was—