Temper (5 page)

Kaih shrugs. “I only know what I heard.”

I flex the muscles in my arms. While I don’t think I could lift the battered old vehicle alone, with a few people to help, I can see why they’d attempt it. Keane’s skepticism isn’t mirrored on any of the Lifer or Fishie faces. He doesn’t realize what we all know. The anger brings with it a new strength. It’s what makes us so dangerous.

Silence stretches, and I wait for someone to speak up and explain but no one does.

“What are we going to do about it?” I ask.

“That’s part of the reason I’ve gathered you all. We need to reinforce the message to get along. Peaceful cooperation is required if we want to unite against the real—”

Davyd laughs. “You have to be kidding.”

“You have a better idea?”

“Talking is all well and good but it’s clear that the Company used the ship as their own little experiment. As well as being Q-resistant, we’ve been bred for strength, speed, and violence with a little fast healing thrown in. And they’re the alterations we know about. There could be more. Talking isn’t going to stop something like this from happening again.”

“He’s right.” Lady speaks at last. She looks down her nose at each of us in turn. “It’s all terribly uncouth, and I refuse to be a slave to these base urges. Something simply must be done. Or …”

We all look to Lady. She all but preens with the attention.

“Or what?” Keane asks.

“We Fishies leave,” she replies.

There’s a stir as people straighten in their seats and lean toward her. I’m guessing it’s the exact kind of dramatic reaction she’s looking for.

“Where would you go?” The question comes from Charley, ever practical.

Lady waves. “I don’t know, but we cannot be expected to stay here under this constant threat unless we see there are steps being taken to rectify this lack of control.”

“I seem to remember there were Fishies knee deep in mud,” Samuai argues. “I don’t think you can blame one group.”

Lady smiles. “Actually, I can.” She waves her hand over the council as though waiting for someone to offer a suitable solution. This instant.

“We’ve done tests,” Charley says quietly. “When we gave Blank, I mean Samuai, his memories back. There’s been no time for analysis because of the move, but there has to be answers in there.”

“Tests take too long,” I blurt.

I hate that I’m about to be Davyd’s puppet, but he was right when he said attacking was better than waiting. This is my chance to take back control. I stand. “Something on that ship muted the effects of whatever has been done to us. The Company has the antidote to this inanity. I volunteer to go to them and bring it back with me.”

There’s a hush.

And then so many voices arguing, I can’t make out a single one. Only Davyd is silent. And looking far too satisfied with himself.

“Why you?” Megs asks, cutting across the conversations.

I eye the girl with her long orange hair and challenge in her eyes. I think I would have liked her if things had been different, as it is Samuai is between us.

“I’m not afraid. My family is all dead. It makes sense.” If I was more like Davyd, I’d make my voice hitch and lip tremble to play on their sympathy, but I can only state the facts. They’re all I have left. “I will do whatever it takes to make us well again.”

“You can’t go alone,” Keane says.

“I’ll go with her.” Samuai and Davyd speak at the same time. And then glare at each other across the table.

It would be funny if it wasn’t so deadly serious.

“You can’t,” Lady says. Her eyes are on Samuai. “I can’t lose you again.”

Davyd’s mouth twists. “That settles it. Asher and I will go to the Company and return to save the day. All medals and parades can wait until then.”

I think I see Keane’s lip twitch. He turns to Toby. “What do you think?”

I feel the weight of the older man’s eyes on me. Assessing. And I try not to flinch. After a long moment he nods. “We have neither the organization nor the man power to try to get what we need—if it even exists—by force. To attempt such a thing would be madness. However, one or two might have a chance if they’re well prepared. She’ll do.”

I release the breath I didn’t mean to hold.

“I think we should vote,” says Arnold, speaking up for the first time. His perfectly sculpted goatee wiggles with every pompous word. “It seems to me that Lifers are the most unstable. Why should we send one of them to do something so important?”

I clench the edge of my seat until the plastic begins to buckle. “We could vote,” I admit. “Take suggestions of who might be best, but it would be a waste of time because I’m going anyway. Everyone at this table has accepted the fact that those on the ship have been made into animals. We know the Company’s reach.” I wave my hand at the big double doors. “Do you think it will sit so easily with those out there?”

“Asher has a point,” Kaih says. “I feel sick thinking about it. Knowing might spark more fighting if people think they have an excuse.”

I shoot her a grateful smile but she’s staring at her folded hands. Her lower lip is trembling, and I can tell supporting me in this has cost her. I want to tell her that this is no suicide mission, but I’m not sure it’s the truth.

Keane looks at me over clasped fingers. “Who do you want to go with you?”

Both brothers turn toward me. Samuai imploring, Davyd so confident my teeth grind together at the sight.

Keane says ‘want’ like this is some kind of popularity contest, but this isn’t about what I want. It hasn’t been since the day Samuai and my brother went missing. This is about the plan that is most likely to work. I don’t want to fail and one day have blood on my hands because I lost my temper over something as trivial as a potato peeler or a knocked over bottle.

I admit what I’ve been ignoring for days: I don’t know how much longer I can control this rage simmering in my belly. And I can’t risk Samuai being with me when I explode. At the same time, I fear he’ll never understand.

“Davyd.” His name burns. I don’t let myself look at Samuai; I don’t want to see the hurt in his warm brown eyes. “This isn’t about taking sides. Samuai is needed here as one of the few people who can bridge the different groups in camp.”

I stare across the table and dare Samuai to argue. He doesn’t.

“It’s decided. You can leave in the morning.” Keane says. “Until Asher returns, all here will do what they can to keep the peace and prepare to face the Company. No word of the true mission will spread past this room.”

There’s a murmur of agreement and the scrape of plastic on wood as people stand to leave.

I hurry around the table, but I’m not fast enough to catch Samuai. He stalks from the room with stiff shoulders and all I can do is stare after him.

An arm settles on my shoulders. I step back and shake free of Davyd, but his grin doesn’t falter. “I always knew that when it came to a choice between me and my brother, you’d choose me.”

[Samuai]

“I’m a person too, you know.”

I blink at the anger in Megs’ voice. Her mouth is set in a tight, straight line, and she’s glaring at me. I’ve done something wrong, but despite a quick replay of our walk from the meeting, I don’t have a clue what it could be. “I know,” I say gently, buying time.

We’ve stopped outside the kitchens, and the smells of dinner are distracting, and it’s all I can do not to ask if we can wait to have this conversation until after we’ve eaten. Being rejected for my brother has made me hungry.

Megs’ hands, resting on narrow hips, are fists. “I have feelings, hopes, dreams, goals.”

“Of course you do.” I’m trying to focus, but I’m thinking about how good it would have felt to smash the grin off Davyd’s face. Asher’s reasoning might be sound, but I thought she’d go with her heart. And it would be me. If I’m honest with myself I wanted to go and have the chance to make up for what happened with Zed. There’s so much she knows, and so much she doesn’t.

I realize I’m being glared at and add. “Dreams?”

Megs huffs out a breath between gritted teeth. “I want revenge for my brother. I lie awake wondering if he’ll ever get well. I pray he will but then I worry he’ll be one of those who linger—damaged in his brain but his body refusing to give in.” Her voice cracks. “In that future I wish him dead because I know he’d hate living a half-life.”

“I’m …” The platitude freezes on my tongue. I’m sorry. I am. But the words don’t seem enough, and I’ve said them before. I did my best to save Janic.

Now I know I was trying to make up for the loss of another brother. Asher’s brother, Zed. He and I were closer than Davyd and I could ever be, a life cut short in a way that continues to give me nightmares. An end I’ve learned to not think about for self-preservation. If I remember, I’ll go mad.

And so, I’m caught up in my regrets and guilt that I’ve spaced out on Megs again and she’s glaring.

“He could wake up at any time,” I say.

She pushes at my chest, two small fists with more strength than I realize. “Forget it. Just forget it all.”

She spins away, but I grab her arm and step forward, blocking her path. “I don’t understand why you’re so mad.”

“Clearly.”

I stare into her eyes, like I can find some answers in their shadowed depths. “Then why don’t you explain?”

She shakes her head. “What do you think I’m trying to do? I speak to you, but it’s like talking to one of the tents. I can see movement, but it’s most likely the wind.”

“I’m listening now.”

“Are you?”

I drag my gaze back from the building we’d just left. The one where Asher and Davyd made their little plan to go off and save the settlement. “Yes.”

She sighs. And I wish she’d argued or better yet, called me out for my lack of attention. Because she’s right that I’m distracted, and a girl like Megs shouldn’t have to accept being second best to anyone.

Her shoulders hunch in, and her arms wrap around her waist. “I have to go see Janic. Sometimes those waking from a Q-coma recall the voices of their loved ones who kept them going while they slept.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Her mouth twists. “I can handle it alone.”

“But you don’t have to.”

One brow lifts. “Ten minutes ago you volunteered to head out on what amounts to little better than a suicide mission. No one going into the Company headquarters would get out alive. I’m not sure you’re someone I want to count on.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Because she didn’t ask you. You and your brother are both dancing to her tune. It’s kind of pathetic.”

It’s like the sun comes out, making everything clear. “You’re jealous.”

She folds her arms. “I’m not.” But she’s lacking her usual conviction.

I want to promise her that what we started back when I was Blank has a future, but I can’t. Not only because I still have feelings for Asher, but because now that I’m stuck here, I’ll do whatever I can to discover the green robes’ secrets. Her friends might be my enemy. I pull her close. “I like you, you know that, but I’m in no position to make promises.”

“You’re such a boy.” She turns on her heel and stalks off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I call after her.

But she pretends she doesn’t hear.

***

I’m tempted not to go to Mother’s for tea. Spending time with her is always exhausting, and today I’m not up to the questions, rituals, and hidden layers in conversation. Half the time I think we’ve been talking about the weather, and it turns out I’ve agreed to something mental like all Lifers should have to use separate bathroom facilities.

But not going will only end up in her coming to me.

She’ll be hurt and confused and wondering why I changed so much in my time away. Then I’ll have to make it up to her. Better to get it over with.

Sometimes I envy Davyd having her complete disinterest.

I trudge through the Fishie tents toward the lone building she somehow commandeered when we arrived. Although small, she’s had it painted in the bright yellow she favors and planted a small plot of earth out front with the yellow and white flowers growing nearby.

Every step is in the opposite direction to where I want to go. Toward Asher. Somewhere across camp she’s preparing to leave, and every second I don’t go to her is one I regret. But then I remember her saying Davyd’s name.

Mother opens the door herself, and I have to force my mouth into a smile. Her hands clap together. “Here at last,” she says. “I thought I would have to send out a search party.”

I know I’m not late, but I don’t argue. Correcting Mother isn’t something to attempt lightly. Instead, I kiss the air near her cheek, not wanting to risk the distress that would come if I smudged her makeup.

In return she hugs me close, and it’s this genuine warmth that makes all her eccentricities bearable.

She leans back and looks me up and down, her gaze lingering on the faded black jeans and hoodie I was given by the green robes and the orange tips I haven’t trimmed off as my hair’s grown.

I try not to squirm

Her nose crinkles. “You could have dressed, dear.”

“I did.”

But she’s already leading the way back into the little house.

I sigh and follow.

I freeze in the doorway. “Asher.” I can’t help her name escaping on a surprised breath. It’s her, only different. It’s not simply that she’s wearing a dress. It’s the way the navy blue flows over her curves like water at night.

Every time I think I know the girl she’s become, she flips the notion on its head.

She stands, and the soft waves of her dark hair catch the light. “Surprise,” she says. Her smile is nervous. Because of me or the clothes or both?

I tell myself to say something, but my mind is blank. My body has plenty to say. It’s screaming of its need to move closer and touch her, but I ignore it. Mother would have a fit—possibly literally.

“What are you doing here?” I manage.

Mother flits across to stand proudly next to Asher. “When I discovered you hadn’t extended my invitation to my darling girl, I had someone collect her.”