Temper (15 page)

I resist the curses wanting to break free. Now isn’t the time to make more noise. I drag the door open a fraction, half expecting to see green robes with guns drawn on the other side, but the hallway is empty.

Kaih’s so close behind me I can feel her body shaking.

We’re nearly to the door and freedom, and I’m beginning to think we might get out of here when I realize Kaih’s no longer behind me.

The hallway is long, and after staring at the files in the torchlight, my eyes haven’t adjusted well. The door ahead opens, and I see Kaih’s slim silhouette. Then she’s gone.

The pounding in my head and threat of being caught jumbles together. I would have sworn she was behind me. I force my legs to move faster. My head is so thick with pain and noise, I can’t trust what I’m hearing.

Was someone else coming? Something made her hurry, and she’s left me here alone to take the fall.

At last my feet obey my brain’s command and move forward. I reach the exit not long after Kaih. Bare seconds have passed since the alarm was triggered, but it feels like hours. The green robes will be here at any moment. I push at the door. The operating room beyond is empty—no Kaih or green robes.

Then it’s not.

Charley and Keane enter at a run.

My heart threatens to burst through my ribs, and I duck back into the dark hallway. Trapped. I’m trapped. I suck in air through what feels like lungs full of foam.

If I ever see Kaih again …

I head back the way I came. The wailing of the alarm might as well be coming from my brain. The soundtrack of fear and panic and complete inability to think. It drowns out Keane and Charley’s approach, but I know they’re close.

Instinct takes over. I turn off, slipping into the room with all the files. I only saw two green robes. If they go for the office first, I might have a chance of getting out behind them.

I’m inside. I ease the door closed right as the door to the operating room bursts open, and the hallway lights up. In that split second, I see it for the first time. Ornate detail curve along the ceilings, and the walls are painted a dusky pink. I would have never guessed.

As I stand there, my back against the door, waiting for footsteps to approach, I can’t stop thinking about the odd color. This place was once someone’s home. Someone who thought that color was a good idea. Or maybe they argued with their wife for months about it. No one knows. They’re gone. Their lives most likely lost in the Upheaval, or after. I need to remember there’s no guarantee I’ll be alive tomorrow. Or that anyone will remember me when I’m gone.

The steps pass.

I exhale, the rush of air loud in my ears, drowning the alarm. I count to three. Any moment they’ll shut it off and realize the room is empty. I pull the door ajar, see the office door open, and hear voices from that direction.

I tread so lightly, I make no sound. One step, two, three. At the door I slide through, glancing back at the still empty hallway. Then I’m in the operating room and through into the main part of the hospital.

And I run.

I don’t stop running until the building disappears behind me into darkness and I’m surrounded by silent tents, their occupants asleep.

The adrenaline that carried me this far sweeps away on a gust of wind. Tiredness hits me suddenly, nearly bringing me to my knees. I heave cold night air into my lungs and stumble the last few feet to Kaih’s tent. Kaih … everyone’s friend and all around good person. My hands ball into fists. The one who bailed on me when things got tough.

I hesitate outside the tent, catching my breath. Going in there and screaming at her won’t help anyone. Even if it is what she deserves.

The camp is quiet. The wind stirs the loose material on the tents, creating a background murmur like a dozen old women whispering about a scandal, jowls flapping. I move toward the entry. Despite my good intentions, my jaw tightens. I push, the material gives beneath my hand. Far above me, thunder claps. My sinking stomach realizes the truth before my torch confirms it.

The tent is empty.

Where the hell is Kaih?

A moment later the small device on her table crackles with static. Then Keane’s voice speaks loud and clear. “Urgent council meeting in five minutes. Tesae’s killer has been found.”

***

One by one the members of the council file into the hall, most too bleary-eyed and sleepy to talk. A few yawning. Thanks to the day I’ve had, I don’t look any more awake than any of the other members. Megs shoots a glare my way and walks around the table to sit far away from me. I don’t have the energy to work out what I’ve done now. Mother is one of the last, entering on a cloud of sickly sweet perfume and with her face fully made up.

I want to shout that this isn’t a social occasion, but I’m too tired. Far too tired.

I look to the door, big and closed against the cold wind. Only Keane and Charley are yet to arrive. And Kaih.

Her being missing and this sudden news can’t be a coincidence. I try to come up with theories to explain what might have happened when we separated, but my brain refuses to work. So I slump back into the old wooden chair, and I wait like everyone else.

As the minutes tick by, Mother murmurs something about wasting her time and I hear agreement whispered around the table on morning breath. If this meeting is so urgent, why aren’t they here?

The door opens with a creak. The wind catches it, slams it against the far wall, and swirls cold into the room. I shiver. Keane enters first. Then Charley. And finally Kaih.

But so different from the girl I was with a few minutes ago.

This Kaih’s head is bowed, so the light shines off the top of her blond head. Her slender hands are tied together. She drags her feet with every step. The scrapes across the floor are sounds of regret or guilt or incredible weariness. The kind that makes breathing an almost impossible task.

Is Kaih the killer?

She can’t be. I’m rising to my feet before I can finish the thought. Keane’s eyes on me are filled with warning. Be certain, he seems to say, be certain before you speak.

“I don’t believe it,” I cry anyway.

Keane shakes his head, scattering drops of water. Part of me notices that the threatening clouds have followed through and rain must be falling; but most of me is struggling to make sense of the scene playing out in front of me.

“Sit,” he orders.

“No. You can’t come in here and tell me what to do. The whole point of a council is that we have no dictator. I don’t believe Kaih hurt anyone.”

Someone gasps. Someone else begins to cry. The others at the table are catching up with what I guessed as soon as Kaih walked in. They’re going to blame Kaih—impossible, if you didn’t know that only minutes ago she was investigating secret files the green robes don’t want us to see.

Secrets like the second ship.

“We have evidence,” Keane says, silencing the others. “Evidence that will prove Kaih killed Tesae in the fight. All we have left to determine is whether we treat this as murder or a terrible accident.”

I don’t think the whole thing takes more than five minutes. With Davyd and Asher gone, the green robes are the dominant voices at the table, and the tears on Charley’s face as she describes her medical findings stops anyone coming to the suspect’s defense.

The girl in question sits next to Keane and says nothing.

I try to catch her eye. Why is she letting them do this? She’s innocent, I’m sure of it.

Charley launches into an explanation of the techniques she used to determine that the DNA found under Tesae’s fingernails and mixed into the open wound, which killed her belonged to Kaih. Everyone around the table is nodding as she speaks, but I bet none of them have a clue what she’s talking about. She’s the only doctor in the camp. She could be making all this evidence up.

“If this is some kind of trial,” I say, interrupting Charley mid-sentence. “Doesn’t Kaih have the right to speak in her own defense?”

There’s agreement around the table.

Keane quiets everyone with a raised hand. “Of course, she’s welcome to say anything.”

For the first time, Kaih lifts her head. The white pelican tattooed on her face is nearly lost in the paleness of her skin. The red rimming her eyes tells of imminent tears, but none fall.

She swallows. “I have nothing to say.”

Her shining eyes meet mine. And then she does it, the slightest shake of her head. No.

No, what? What does that mean? No—she didn’t do it? No—I shouldn’t call this presenting of evidence out for the farce that it is. Or the impossible, no—she has no defense.

I beg her silently for more, but she lowers her head once again, and all I can see is her dark lashes and the trembling of her mouth. I wish I knew her better, but apart from Asher, I never bothered with the Lifers. Realization comes with shame. Perhaps I’m not as different from my mother as I would have liked to believe.

“What happens now?” asks Mother.

Keane spreads out his hands on the table. “We’re all in shock and don’t have a precedent to fall back on in dealing with this horrifying event. As Samuai said,” his glance my way is a look you’d give an annoying child, “We are no dictatorship. But I suggest we hold the perpetrator and meet again in a few days to discuss a suitable punishment.”

No one argues.

Keane and Charley leave the meeting first; Kaih walks between them. Then one by one, the council wrap themselves up against the now heavy rain and head back to their tents. Mother’s hand brushes my shoulder as she passes, whether in sympathy or pity, I’m not sure. I’m the last left sitting at the old, wooden table.

I know only one thing.

I have to see Kaih alone, but that won’t happen until morning. It’s some hours before daylight. I need to use the time between now and then to think and plan. I need to work out why Kaih is doing this.

One word from her and I would have spoken up, revealed the green robes and their secrets. But then what?

Chances are they’ve already moved the files we looked at. It would be our word against theirs. A camp divided or worse, a camp at war. All because of the possibility of a ship.

Her silence forces mine, which leaves me free while she’s locked up. And the green robes think they have their secrets safe.

But why any of it?

Too weary to return to an empty tent, I eventually fall into an unsettled sleep at the table.

I wake with the rising sun. Hours have passed since the meeting and Kaih’s sacrifice. Light trickles into the hall through high windows and the dusty old frames outline patches of pale blue sky. It’s as though the rain of last night never happened.

If only I could forget the events so easily. It’s not the first time I’ve envied Blank and his lack of memory. For a short time I was free of the obligation that comes from knowing what’s gone before. Free of the constraints of relationships.

My face is rough from where it pressed against the table, and my neck cracks as I stretch upright. I have to see Kaih. There’s a reason she wants me free, and the green robes to think we know nothing about the other ship. I need to know what it is.

An hour later, I enter the wing of the admin area that’s been set up as a temporary prison. I walk in as though I own the place, copying every bit of Davyd’s swagger. It gets me all the way to the prisoner’s door.

The man standing guard is familiar. It takes a second and then I remember, he’s the same security guard with the three rings through his eyebrow who was working the door at the warehouse. The night I met Megs and flew those incredible ships seems a lifetime ago. “Hey, Shamus,” I say.

He claps me hard on the shoulder. “Blank, my friend.”

I don’t correct him with my real name. We’re all old friends here. “How have you been?”

He shrugs, huge shoulders rolling. “The usual.”

“Any chance I can see the prisoner?”

His eyes dart down the hall, to where Keane is I’m guessing. “The boss said no visitors, I’m sure you understand.”

I lean close. “I thought of Tesae like a sister.” I hesitate, like I’m struggling manfully with emotion. “And Kaih’s supposed to be a friend.” I rub at the back of my neck, shaking my head. “I heard she tried to use me as an alibi, you know. It’s crazy because I was with Megs when the whole thing went down.”

Shamus rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Women.”

“I know. I should be well glad to be out of her clutches, but there are whispers in the Lifer tents that she’s being mistreated. Everyone wants Tesae’s killer punished, of course, but there’s unrest. I thought as a neutral, I could see her and reassure everyone …”

He considers and then beckons to a passing green robe. “Take guard for a minute.”

The guy, nearly as stocky as Shamus, does as he’s asked. Shamus heads off to talk to Keane.

A minute later the man himself leans out the door and waves me in. “Samuai can see her,” he says. “But make it quick and no talking. Keeping everyone happy out there’s a good idea. Thanks.”

“You have my word.” I don’t know how I manage to sound so normal. I can’t look Keane in the eye. I believed he was one of the good guys in life, but after last night, I’m not sure there’s any such thing.

The guard stands aside and lets me enter.

It’s dark inside. I blink and make out Kaih, curled up on a mattress in the corner. She doesn’t look up when I enter.

“Kaih,” I say softly.

She’s on her feet and in my arms before I can blink. Her slender body presses against me and it’s shaking so hard I’m afraid she’ll break right there in my arms. The emotion I faked out in the hallway threatens to close my throat. For long seconds, I hold her close. Faint wetness seeps through my shirt, where her head rests, but I don’t pull away. Letting her cry on my shoulder seems the least I can do.

“This is crazy. I know you didn’t do it.” I’m breaking the no-talking promise I made to Keane but I don’t care. I don’t owe him anything. Not anymore. “I’ll tell everyone what happened. We can fight this.”

Her head lifts, and I see there’s a gag on her mouth. The skin around it is red and raw but the pain in her blue eyes isn’t physical. “Don’t.” It’s an order and despite the gag, it’s unmistakable.