Stitching Snow (10 page)

“Here are our fi ndings and the cost for repairs,” the boy said.

“Minus the merinium you already provided.”

“
These
are the technicians?” I blurted.

“Essie.”

I ignored the warning in Dane’s voice. “I’m stuck here doing the most mind-numbing work of my life while
children
are repairing the shuttle?” After a glance at the tally on the slate, I was doubly outraged. “It’ll take twenty days to work it off at this rate! I could do it myself. All I need are a few parts and some help from—”

“Essie!” The danger that time stopped me.

“We’ve seen your so-called repairs,” the boy said. “Not very elegant.”

89

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

Hitting a kid wasn’t my style, but his sneer made it tempting.

I’d done what I could with what I had.

“I’m sure it’s different on Thanda,” Liza said kindly. “But education here relies on students being given real tasks. With Tobias as their instructor, they’re more than capable of making the repairs.”

At that price, I certainly hoped so, but I kept my mouth shut.

“We accept the terms,” Dane said.

Liza made a note in the slate, and the three of them left. I turned to go back to my workstation, but Dane grabbed my arm.

“Do not mention the drones. I signaled them to stay where the technicians won’t look, but if anyone fi nds them . . . Well, let’s just say that when Garamites want something, they make it diffi cult to say no, and trying makes them a lot less friendly.”

“Why would they care about my Thandan junk-tech?” His gaze riveted my feet to the fll oor. “Those drones aren’t

‘junk-tech’ and you know it. Keep quiet about them.” I yanked out of his grasp and went back to work without a word. My head, however, was a riot of nonstop noise.

Twenty days. That was plenty of time for them to fi nd Dimwit and Cusser. Plenty of time for Dane to form plans of his own to keep me from escaping. Plenty of time for the Garamites to fi nd out who I was, with or without Dane telling them.

Worst of all, twenty days in that lab, performing stitch after lifeless stitch, wasting away.

Like you were wasting away on Thanda.

I shook my head, dislodging the sudden thought. Thanda was safe, hidden, out of reach.

Do what needs doing, Essie.

I’d do what needed doing, all right. There had to be a more 90

R.C. ll E WI S

effi cient way of earning a little extra on this planet. I just had to fi nd it.

We got more visitors in the lab the next day, but the footsteps passed my workstation, stopping at Dane’s. I kept my eyes on the fuses I was replacing, my ears on the voices fll oating over the divider.

“How’s your work coming along?” Brand asked.

“Slowly,” Dane said. “But we’ll get it done.”

“Good.” He lowered his voice, but not so much that I couldn’t hear. “We haven’t had a chance to talk. Still no word on your father?”

“No, nothing.”

A sigh. “Shame. Eight standard years is a long time, especially if the tales of Matthias’s prisons are true.” I dropped my micro-spanner, and both attempts to pick it up failed. My fi ngers felt numb.

Dane’s father . . . The arrested Exiles who’d been living legally in the embassy when I’d disappeared . . .

That hadn’t been part of the equation.

I shivered and willed myself not to throw up, focusing intently on the replacement fuses instead.

Dane mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Then a voice came from directly behind me, drowning out Brand’s response.

“And how is our clever little Thandan doing today?” I glanced over my shoulder enough to confi rm it was the man I hadn’t liked from the beginning, the one with the superior 91

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

smirk frozen on his face. “Well enough,” I told him. “Better if you leave me to my work.”

“If this is too advanced, perhaps we can fi nd something more basic for you.”

I bristled but resisted the urge to turn. “This’ll do fi ne, thanks.”

He started to say something else, but Brand interrupted.

“Leave her alone, Tobias. Let’s go.” So the smirking man was Tobias, instructor to the technician brats. Figured.

The footsteps retreated, each beat echoing in my head.

Dane’s father was one of the prisoners. It changed things, broke my defenses, and set my mother’s voice screaming in my ears.

Windsong needs you.

I needed to get off of Garam and back to Thanda, fast.

There had to be a way, and I redoubled my efforts to fi nd something useful on the network. Every planet had routes to speedy wealth—one of the few consistencies in the system.

Those routes were always risky, but so was sticking around a day longer than I had to.

I found plenty of games of chance that seemed popular, but I didn’t know enough about them to work the odds in a gamble.

The same went for some skill-based competitions I came across.

Maybe I could succeed at one, but I didn’t have time to learn the rules and get that good.

I needed something quick, something I could pull off.

Something obvious.

By the time Brand and Tobias returned to escort us to our room, I’d fi gured the answer. One other thing was common to all the planets: everyone loved watching two people try to beat each other senseless.

92

R.C. ll E WI S

“What would it take to set me up for a fi ght?” Dane whipped around to stare at me. “A what?”

“I’m not talking to you,” I retorted.

Brand stepped in. “I hardly think that’s the kind of thing—”

“I have a winning record in the Thandan fi ght circuit. Go on and check their networks, you’ll see. Fight winnings will pay off the repairs a lot faster than patching broken components.”

“Then I’ll do the fi ghting,” Dane said.

“My idea, my fi ght.” Besides, getting the winnings in my name would make escaping that much easier.

Even with Dane arguing, Tobias didn’t take his eyes off me.

He was looking at me like the men on Thanda did when they were certain a risky bet would pay off big. I wondered how he’d feel if I took him out for a warm-up spur right then.

“With all due respect, Dane, watching a trained Candaran fi ght won’t bring in the credits she will. A girl who bested Thanda’s mining brutes will be an incredible draw.”

“She’s never used VT.”

“You keep telling us how smart she is. I’m sure she’ll catch on.”

Dane opened his mouth to argue more, but I cut him off.

I’d seen VT mentioned on the network, but no defi nition.

“What’s VT?”

“Virtual-tech,” Tobias explained. “Fighters engage through our computer network, the audience watches, and no one has to leave their colony.”

It didn’t sound any worse than the cage fi ghts I was used to. Possibly better.

That didn’t explain why Dane looked so unhappy about it.

93

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

Brand and Tobias took us by a VT facility to let me try out the technology. It was complicated, involving neural transmitters and kinetic sensors, redirecting the signals from my brain to the computer. I couldn’t begin to guess how it all worked. They got me hooked up and ran a demonstration.

It felt real.

The rational part of my brain knew I was in a small room full of equipment, unmoving in a reclined chair, but every other part was convinced I was walking along a cliff overlooking an ocean. Salt wafted on the breeze tickling my skin, and the sun made me squint just a little. As I explored, I stubbed my toe on a large rock. That felt real, too.

It was amazing. My brain responded to the signals the computer sent, and the simulation responded to my brain’s own signals. I could fi ght like this.

Tobias turned off the simulation and disconnected the equipment. “So, are you in?”

I answered before Dane could. “Defi nitely.”

“All right, we’ll arrange a fi ght for sometime tomorrow and see how many credits you rack up. If you’re as good as you say, I might consider sponsoring you into the professional circuit.

There are a lot more credits to be won that way.”
And be your pet fi ghting Thandan? Not likely.

I kept my mouth shut as I followed the others out. My toe still hurt. Odd.

Maybe that had to do with why Dane didn’t like it.

94

R.C. ll E WI S

His bad mood lingered as we returned to our room. I waited until we were alone before saying anything.

“What’s your problem? You want to use me to get your people back. Why not use me to get on with it faster?”

“It’s different.”

“Using is using, from where I stand.”

“I didn’t like you fi ghting Moray, either, remember?”

“Aye, but that
was
different. We were friends then.” Dane fll inched. Once I said it, I realized it was true. He’d felt as much like a friend as any I’d ever had, up until he knocked me out. My anger morphed to a wrenching pang.

You should’ve known better than to trust him, Essie.

His face hardened as he stuck to his original track. “Why are you doing it? You’re the one who acts like you don’t want to go home.”

I couldn’t tell him I had every intention of using my winnings to leave Garam
without
him and head in the opposite direction of Windsong. To my
real
home, the one he’d stolen me from. There were plenty of reasons to be in a hurry, though.

“You’ve seen how Tobias looks at me. And you said yourself that when Garamites want something, they make it hard to say no.”

“I would
not
let that happen!” All I’d meant was how Tobias viewed me as a commodity, something that could bring more credits his way. Dane was talking about something else . . . something more personal. His dark eyes fll ickered, punctuating his sincerity. A twisted knot formed somewhere behind my ribs.

I turned away. “Well, much as I don’t want to go to Windsong, I don’t want to stay
here
, either. I can fi nd new ways to 95

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

botch your plans once we’re off this fi reball.” I curled up in my blanket, intending to think through possible plans, but the urge to speak up refused to fade. I needed confi rmation before I could even think about what I’d do after the fi ght. “What Brand said . . . Your father is one of the prisoners you want to trade me for, isn’t he?”

“Good night, Essie.”

That was a yes.

I turned away from him, but I felt off, and it wasn’t just the lingering twinge in my toe. The knot in my chest wouldn’t loosen. I was annoyed with Dane and still wouldn’t mind breaking his nose along with a few other things before I left, but the fi re of rage I held toward him went so weak I could barely fi nd it.

Kidnapping me to trade for political prisoners made him a despicable smear of buzzard dung. Trading a girl he’d just met for the father he’d lost eight years ago . . . that made him something else.

As fi ght-time drew nearer, Dane couldn’t shut it with the advice.

“Remember what I said before. Don’t let your body show what you’re going to do until you do it. Each action lives in its own moment.”

“Aye, I heard you.”

Liza fi nished connecting me to the VT unit. “Here’s the current data on the wagers,” she said, pointing to a monitor. “And your percentages for either a win or loss, depending on the length of the fi ght.”

I took in the data. If I won, I’d be set. Enough to get to the 96

R.C. ll E WI S

spaceport, maybe even enough to get passage to Thanda. I could work out the other logistics. If I lost, it would take a few more fi ghts to earn enough, depending on how long I lasted each time.

Or I could pay off the repairs and slip away. In either case, I’d be gone.

Tobias moved as though to clap a hand on my shoulder, but my glare stopped him. “Make it a good one, Essie.”

“Always do. Let’s get it going.”

The tech initiated, redirecting my brain’s physical and sen-sory signals away from my body and into the virtual world.

Nothing as serene as the cliff-lined shore greeted me this time.

I stood on the fll oor of a large arena, the stands fi lling quickly.

So quickly, I had to blink twice to assure myself I wasn’t imagining it. People weren’t walking in and taking their seats; they just popped into existence, already in their places.

I stood in one corner of a large red square. Clearly a fi ghting ring, though with no cage surrounding it like I was used to. Not even a rope or railing to reinforce its boundary. My opponent appeared in the far corner.

I’d never fought a woman before. This would be different.

I ignored the noise of the gathering crowd to get the measure of her. Tall, nearly Dane’s height. The kind of muscular build that was achieved for its own sake, not from lugging heavy equipment around a merinium mine.

She had strength, weight, and reach on me. And from the cool look in her eyes, I knew it wasn’t her fi rst fi ght.

A voice came from everywhere and nowhere. “Wagers are now locked in. Fight to commence in three . . . two . . . one . . .

begin.”

97

S T I T C H I N G S N O W

I never got the lady’s name or anything, not that I cared.

Especially when she ran straight at me.

Instinct took over. I dodged, landing a kidney punch as I did.

All it elicited was a grunt.

She twisted, grabbing me—I didn’t move fast enough to escape her hold—and threw me across the ring.

I’d thought there was no cage. I was wrong. Thousands of tiny hooks jerked my muscles from the inside out.

A shock-fi eld lining the ring. Charming.

The woman came at me again while I was still down, swing-ing her leg back for a kick. Dim move, and one I anticipated. I pivoted and brought my own leg up, thrusting my heel into the kneecap of her anchor leg. She went down, giving me enough time to roll to my feet and move away from the ring’s perimeter.

I did not want another dose of that shock-fi eld.

My opponent was warier when she got up. She circled me, calculating her next move . . . smiling.

I hated it when they smiled.