Temper (14 page)

His talk of a plan seems the stuff of fantasy now.

Maybe I imagined the whispered explanation in the van. Maybe he’s got me so messed up I’m inventing an excuse for his betrayal. Maybe he wanted to keep me talking with the possibility of there being some explanation to stop me hijacking the van.

“What about your folks?” My words slur, and I don’t know if I managed to say them aloud or not.

“The reason I wanted to come. They went to the Company when they heard there might be some work in New City, and they never came home.” Her voice trembles. “I don’t even know how long ago that was. I lost count.”

I force my hand to move and try to reach out. As I do I realize I’m naked beneath a white gown and thin sheet. The room’s swimming but I think Rael is dressed the same. My blood chills at the thought of being stripped while unconscious. When? Who?

“She’s awake.”

I think that’s what I hear. Either that or it’s someone hitting a metal pipe against an old truck. The clip of a hundred running footfalls drowns the after ringing in my ears. And then one blurry face is in front of me. Davyd.

“You—” I want to say more but my tongue is too thick, and anger fills my throat so all I can do is mouth obscenities.

“That’s my Princess.”

I take a swing and hit nothing. “Drugged me again.” The echoing in my head has settled again and each word sounds roughly as it’s supposed to.

He leans close as though checking the wire coming from the back of my head. I’m distracted for a second; since when is there a wire coming from the back of my head?

“Part of the plan,” he says right into my ear.

I lick at my lips to make them work better. “Why more?”

“That last lot should have had you knocked out waiting for me at the farm. I didn’t want to risk any more surprises.”

With every blink the world comes a little more into focus. My gaze drops to the binding patch around his thigh, and I fight nausea from moving too fast. “What happened?”

“Your stunt gave me the idea. I had to make it look like there was a struggle or I wouldn’t have an excuse to patch you.”

“No food tricks this time.”

“I didn’t think anyone would believe we were stopping for a romantic picnic.” He straightens, all intimacy gone. “You’ll be required for questioning once the doctors have cleared you.”

He’s supposed to be acting for any observers, I guess, but I’m losing track of what is real and what isn’t. If he’d told me his plan, I would have gone under questioning peacefully. Or with a small show of resistance. This isn’t part of any plan that makes sense to me.

But I can’t ask more questions. I can only watch his back as he strides across toward a blank wall. There he touches his palm to the center. A soft swish and it slides open, but there’s only darkness beyond.

My eyes are still heavy and sweet, black oblivion whispers through sluggish veins.

Rest a little
…

Ignoring it, I try to prop myself up. There’s a tug at the back of my head. The wires. I should have asked Davyd about the wires. Slowly, I turn my head, ignoring the instinct to rip them out of my skull. First, I need to know what they’re doing in there. Removing chunks of my head doesn’t appeal.

I test the extent they allow movement and discover I can lift my head and brace myself up on the pillow. The bandages on my left arm must be where I was patched with the drug that knocked me out.

“There’s not much to see,” Rael says.

I look around the room. She’s right. White on white. We’re in a smooth-walled box with two beds and a few monitoring instruments with screens I can’t see—and probably wouldn’t understand if I could. The door Davyd walked through looks the same as the other walls. If it hadn’t been for Rael beside me, I’d wonder whether I’d imagined the swish of it opening as some fevered dream.

If it had been a dream, I wouldn’t have missed when I swung at his head.

“That wasn’t his first visit,” Rael says.

I turn with a frown. “Davyd?”

She nods. Her mouth curves. “The first time you were out of it, and he walked in here like he owned the place. With all his interest on you, it gave me my chance for a little payback.”

Unlike me, it’s not wires from her head keeping her in the bed, but a thick band across her chest. “What did you do?”

“As much as I could.”

I try to smile but the world is zooming in and out. Stars like I imagined I’d see out the control room on the Pelican tease at the corners of my vision. “Did he hurt you?”

I don’t hear her answer.

***

I think hours must have passed when I speak again. Someone left food for me earlier, and I choked it down because I’d be useless without fuel. Rael has been silent beside me as I’ve drifted in and out of consciousness. As far as I know, we’ve been left alone other than the food delivery. My hope that Davyd would soon return has faded with every beat of my heart, each one marking time passing and allowing doubts to take hold.

Most of the time, when I open my eyes, Rael’s looking at me. There’s something different about her. But when I think I’ve worked it out I’d fall asleep again.

“Tell me more about your parents,” I say to Rael when I’m sure I won’t fall asleep again. I think of my mother and the way the Company tore her to pieces like a pack of dogs. If they’re here, I don’t hold much hope for them. “When did they leave?”

“A long time ago. I waited in the house, eating as little as I could for their return. Every night I’d curl up on the mattress believing they’d be home when I woke. They never were. Eventually, I had to go looking for food. I used the bike, the one Da said I was never to ride without his permission.”

She hesitates, and I wish I could reach across to the other bed to offer comfort. No wonder she needed promises from me to use the bike. And now it’s been taken by the Company. “He would have understood,” I say, but I don’t know whether she hears me.

“I went to a nearby farm. Old Man Walker was famous for his supplies. I knew Dad had traded with him before. I took with me anything of value I could find and hoped he’d take pity on me.” Her voice falters. “His stores were too famous, and people had already come before me. They left his body. He’d not given up his supplies easily.” Her fists grip the bed sheets on either side of her body.

I realize the reason she looks so different. She’s clean. The dark stains on her brown skin are gone, and she’s soft and younger somehow.

But not her expression. She’s seen too much.

Did Zed see such horrors before he died? Samuai would know. I should have asked him, but I was afraid. Afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep all the pain inside me locked away if I knew the full story.

“Were the others still there?”

She shakes her head. “No. I took what scraps I could find and went back to the farm. I figured it would be the first place Mum and Da would look for me. But they never came.”

“But you weren’t always alone?” I want to take back the question as soon as I ask it.

She covers her face with her hands.

“Forget it,” I say. “Seriously, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Some came,” she says through spread fingers. “Not many because we’re off the track and out of range of Company patrols. Mostly they didn’t see me. Sometimes I wasn’t fast enough to hide …”

She doesn’t say anything more, and this time I don’t ask.

The door opens a little while later. A woman in Company gray but with green at her collar, enters. She has a small screen in her hand. Something about her neat stride reminds me of Charley. Maybe it’s some innate medical thing. I can’t help thinking the slim blond woman could be anyone I know. I thought people from the Company would radiate evil, but she’s a lot like an ordinary woman doing her job.

She sighs, her brow furrowed as she reaches behind me with her right hand. Her left hand rests on the sheet for balance, the first and second fingers crossed. There’s a faint tugging at the back of my head, and then the wires dangle in her hand. On the end are small, round white discs, each covered in a shiny substance.

“What are they for?” I ask.

Her eyes dart my way, but she doesn’t answer. I touch the back of my head, bracing for pain. None comes, but there my fingers come away wet with the same substance from the white discs.

“You’re not allowed to talk to me?”

She says nothing.

“What about me?” Rael asks.

The woman doesn’t glance her way. She’s efficient, marking something on a small device in her hand and adjusting one of the instruments. Another, attached to the wires, is shut down. She’s completed checking everything in the room in a few minutes, but she lingers at the foot of my bed.

Her eyes meet mine, full of questions. Her lips part.

The door in the white wall opens behind her, operated by an unseen hand. The woman turns, without saying a word, and leaves.

“They’re all like that,” Rael says. “Silent. If we weren’t completely powerless here, I’d say they’re afraid.”

I nod, but that woman was more than afraid. She wanted to say something. I’m sure of it.

The door slides open again. It’s Davyd this time, and he has a pile of clothes in his hand. He dumps them on the foot of my bed and turns his back. “Get dressed. You have one minute.”

“Why should I?”

“Now.”

“Not with you here.” I might be a prisoner, but it doesn’t mean I will do what he says without question. Not anymore.

He glances back at me over his shoulder, one brow raised. “Who do you think undressed you?”

“You mean you did?” I tug the sheet higher, refusing to let my thoughts wander down the path of his hands on my bare skin, washing me clean from the dirt and grime picked up on the road. “No.”

“Maybe.” He laughs. “You’ll never know.”

“You’re sick.”

“And you’re all nice and clean.” He sweeps me head to foot with his eyes, but then huffs impatiently. “Dress. I’ve told you before I’m not interested in my brother’s leavings. You have my word I won’t look.”

I can’t help but remember the look in his eyes the time I stripped to unsettle him on the ship and the hunger in his mouth when he kissed me in the Control Room. He can say what he likes, but I know the truth. And I know how little his word means anymore.

When he faces away again, I dress. I take no chances, dragging on underwear using the sheet as a screen and then adding the worn jeans and top as fast. When I’m done, Davyd hasn’t moved from his position facing the closed door.

That’s when I see it. His grin reflected in the smooth, shiny white wall.

I resist the names that spring to my lips. Instead I offer him a smile of my own. “Couldn’t help yourself, huh?” I taunt.

Thanks to the sheet, he wouldn’t have seen much. What I focus on is that he wanted to look. I have my own body under control. If he’s distracted by this chemistry between us that won’t go away, it can only be good for me.

“You’re coming with me.” Davyd palms the door open without waiting for an answer. As a Lifer, I was expected to follow his orders. As his prisoner, his command is absolute.

I take a step after him on heavy legs. Rael is tiny on the other bed. She’s watching me but doesn’t say a word.

“I’ll be back soon,” I say. I almost promise to return but catch myself. Anything could be waiting for me outside this box.

She doesn’t say anything, and I don’t blame her. I guess she’s heard that before.

Thud. Thanks to looking at Rael, I walk into a wall of muscle. Davyd’s back to be precise. Warm, familiar, repulsive.

“Couldn’t help yourself, huh?” he echoes my earlier words. “Wanted to touch me.”

“You did that.”

I arch away, but he swivels and grips my wrist. “Listen.” His voice is low, urgent. “Forget the games. Everything you think you know about this place is wrong. Observe, think, take mental notes, whatever. This might be your only chance.”

I start to reply, but his fingers tighten on my bandaged wrist. Pain shoots up my arm, cutting me off.

His head is so close, I can see the lighter flecks in his gray eyes. “Here, I am all you have. I am your only hope.”

[Samuai]

Of course there’s another ship. No organization with the reach and influence of the Company would have put all their resources into one spaceship.

“That must be it,” I say, unable to hide my excitement. The possibilities swirl through my brain.

“Maybe,” replies Kaih.

“But why would the green robes keep it secret?”

She doesn’t answer.

And I’m too busy with the map to pay attention. Having spent most of my life underground, the map takes some figuring out. Megs tried to explain a few of the key landmarks to me once, but it’s hard to picture how they might be spread out in reality since the physical changes of the Upheaval. I don’t see any of the new chasms or mountains here. The city I visited when I was Blank is but a tiny part of what was once a sprawling metropolis.

I shine the torch on the other ringed location. It’s smudged and overwritten with more of the code that was in the files. It’s definitely away from the coast but beyond that, I’m not sure. The faint round lines all over the place are contours, I think. Megs said the closer they are together, the steeper the curve of the land. Like the Pelican, the other ship—if that’s what this is—was under a hill.

But how can I find one hill? There are hundreds …

There’s a rustle behind me. I spin. While I’ve been studying the map, Kaih’s moved around to the other side of the large, wooden desk. She’s far enough that the torch light shows little but her shape. Her hand’s moving toward the bottom left corner of the screen.

I stretch out, like I can stop her by force of will despite the width of the desk separating us. “Don’t—” I try to warn her, I don’t know why or what from but I have to try.

A wail splits the night.

I’m too late.

Her eyes are wide, and she stumbles back, knocking a chair I hadn’t noticed. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll worry about sorry when we’re out of here. We have to move.”

She does, following me to the door. There’s the slam of a door in the distance, then the clatter of steps. Heading our way.