Awakening (21 page)

“That stuff is made for trueborns,” she said. “To make them happier when everything is dark for them. How do you know it will even work on a GEN?”

“I just wanted to try it,” he said. “Just this once.”

“So you stole a million dhans worth of drugs—”

“I didn’t steal it! He . . . he gave it to me.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

He set his mouth, looking stubborn as a drom. Then he shook his head.

“Tell me the truth. All of it.”

His gaze flicked to the left, then back at her. When he spoke, there was only the slightest slurring. “My patron ordered his youngest son, Ekavir, to transport four carrysaks across the border into Shafti sector. My patron lives in the far north of Nitha sector, right up against the adhikar, and a long way from the Shafti border. Ekavir hadn’t earned the right to a lev car yet. So he could ride a drom, or he could walk. He wasn’t about
to arrive in Shafti with his best korta smelling of drom, but he wasn’t about to carry those carrysaks himself on foot either. He talked his father into lending him me. So I toted the carrysaks, but I had no idea what was in them.”

“How’d you end up with this one?”

“We were walking along the electrified adhikar fence. No one knew, but the power went out in a section. A bhimkay climbed over. It got hold of Ekavir . . .” His throat seemed to close off.

“I remember that story, about a bhimkay killing a trueborn,” Kayla said. “But no one said anything about a GEN being with him.”

“Who would mention the GEN?” Abran asked, and Kayla knew he was right. “I was terrified. Of the spider, of what they’d do to me once they found out Ekavir had died and I hadn’t.”

“They would have reset you,” Kayla said, “Even though none of it was your fault. You were there, so you should have somehow saved the trueborn.”

“He would have beaten me first,” Abran said. “I knew I’d be reset whether I went back without Ekavir, or if I ran. So I ran. I dropped three of the carrysaks along the way, but held onto this one. I don’t even know why. But I kept running, keeping close to the adhikar, until I cut across Shafti, then Maf sector to Fen.”

“So when you said your patron might not have known for a couple days that you’d escaped . . .”

“He’d expected us to be away close to a week,” Abran said. “So they wouldn’t have started looking for Ekavir right away.”

That made sense. And even after the week had passed, it might have taken the jaf buyer some time to realize Ekavir
wasn’t going to show up. “And you thought the Grid might not find you because they might think you were dead?”

“Once they found Ekavir, they might have thought the bhimkay carried me off.”

It all fit. Except she didn’t like the fact that he’d kept so much from her and Risa. “When did you find out what you had?”

“I knew it was something illegal. But I didn’t dare stop until I was well out of Nitha sector. Then I opened the carrysak.”

“Why not leave it behind?” Kayla asked. “All this time, you’ve put me and Risa at risk. Do you know how often we’re boarded and inspected by the Brigade?”

“I was afraid if I dumped them, they’d detect my DNA,” Abran said. “Know where I’d gone.”

“They’d only need the Grid for that,” Kayla said. Of course, at the moment he was safe from the Grid, the Kinship’s machinations fooling it into thinking Abran legitimately worked for Councilor Mohapatra. “How many vac-seals have you used?”

“Just the one,” Abran said, then at Kayla’s skeptical look, he added, “I promise. Just one. I pretend everything is okay, but sometimes I feel eaten up inside, worrying that Baadkar will find me and take me back.”

“Well, you won’t be using anymore,” Kayla said. “The rest of the vac-seals and the carrysak they came in are going into the lorry’s incinerator.” She grabbed the carrysak from between Abran’s feet.

“No!” Abran said, trying to take the carrysak from her.

Between his unsteadiness and her strength, she easily kept her grip on it. “You might be feeling pretty good right now
from that hit of jaf, but without the proper stim to follow it, you’ll be crashing soon.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with her, but in the end, he let go of the carrysak. Even still, he looked pretty worried as Kayla tucked it under her arm.

“Let’s go,” Kayla said. “Risa will be worried.”

As they emerged from the sticker bushes then along the ditch, he kept eyeing the carrysak. He wasn’t swaying anymore, but he seemed edgy, not at all like the mellow jaf users she’d seen.

“How do you know so much about jaf?” he asked.

“Doctrine school. Weren’t you paying attention?”

It was also a drug Zul told her he’d tried instead of crysophora. Crysophora was a super-charged stimulant, but he risked damaging his internal organs using it. Zul said jaf gave him at least the illusion of well-being, helping him cope with his debilitation mentally, but not physically. She guessed he didn’t use either drug now with his new treatment.

She still felt uneasy about the mysterious regimen that had so improved Zul’s condition. It was hard to trust any trueborn gene-splicers, inside or outside the Kinship. Sometimes it was hard to trust trueborns at all.

Abran slanted a look down at her. “How long were you hiding there?”

“I wasn’t hiding.” Kayla winced at the lie. “Well, I was. But Risa sent me off after you. I was there long enough to hear your prayer. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh.” The one word came out strangled.

“I heard you pray for your family. It’s hard to leave them behind when you’re Assigned. Has it been a long time since you’ve seen them?”

“Yes.” Now he had that desolation in his eyes again. “They’re not . . . in a good place.”

She couldn’t help the sympathy that washed over her. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. He seemed to want to share more, but he pressed his lips together as if to block the impulse.

When the lorry was in sight, she put out a hand to stop him. “For your own safety, you ought to think before you mouth off, even to a lowborn like Risa. And you risk an awful lot being out here alone where an enforcer could see you.”

He shrugged. “You came out here by yourself.”

“I’m guessing I have a lot more experience handling the Brigade than you do, Abran. And I have Risa at my back. She knows I’m too valuable to my patron to let me get reset.”

“You don’t think Risa would protect me?” Abran asked.

“Maybe not, when you bring this—” She held up the carrysak. “—into our home.”

His hand twitched as if he wanted to take the laden carrysak back from her. He wouldn’t have been able to and had to know that. Could he already be that hooked after one hit of jaf? Or had he lied about how many he’d used?

When they got back to the lorry, Kayla found Risa sprawled across the bed, sound asleep. She backed out of the cab quietly. “I’ll have to tell her about the jaf in the morning. And Councilor Mohapatra will have to know.”

“No.” Abran shook his head. “He might send me back.”

“He won’t.”

Abran gripped her arm. “Please, I have to stay with you.”

“I told you, he won’t send you back.” At least she didn’t
think the councilor would, not with the judgment he was building against Baadkar. But Abran didn’t know about that. Zul feared the boy would run off if he knew he would have to testify.

Abran let go of her, his gaze strayed again to the carrysak. “Will you have to wait until morning to incinerate those?”

Kayla gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “I’m dumping the vac-seals now. The carrysak can wait until later. Go get in the bay. Leave the door open for Nishi.”

She waited until the lorry rocked with his weight as he climbed inside. He’d have to sleep in the back by the doors, where he had that first night. She was small enough to crawl over the freight to Nishi’s cubby, but Abran wasn’t. And she wasn’t letting Abran scramble across Risa to the hatch.

Kayla hopped back into the cab. The bigger incinerator in the bay was blocked by crates of kel-grain, which left only the mini-cin in the washroom. She’d be able to feed the vac-seals of jaf in there one by one. Once she and Risa dropped their load and had access to the bigger incinerator, she’d destroy the carrysak.

She shut the door of the washroom behind her, hoping the whomp of the mini-cin wouldn’t wake Risa. Then she unfastened the carrysak’s latch and pulled out the first vac-seal.

Now that she was in the brighter light of the washroom, she realized the jaf had an odd color to it. Where the jaf she’d seen Zul inject was a creamy yellow, this batch was a little brighter, pale, but almost golden like Nishi’s eyes. The vac-seals were the right shape—circular—but there was no encoding mark on the plasscine.

Could this be bootleg jaf? Something that Baadkar had his
people cook up? If so, Abran had put himself at even greater risk using it. She’d have to keep her eye on him, to make sure he didn’t have any adverse effects.

It occurred to her that Zul and the councilor might want her and Risa to keep the bootleg jaf as further evidence against Baadkar. But besides the peril of them hiding and transporting the drugs, the crime of making and selling jaf seemed like such a trivial thing compared to the way Abran’s former patron had abused him. In fact, she could easily imagine the Judicial Council slapping Baadkar on the wrist for the bootleg jaf, and ignoring completely the issue with his treatment of GENs.

Better to destroy it, she decided, dropping the vac-seal into the mini-cin, then following with the other eighteen. She searched the carrysak, looking for any hidden pockets, but there was nothing else inside.

That job done, she performed her nightly routine in the washroom, then nudged Risa aside to climb in beside her. As Kayla tried to relax into sleep, her conversation with Abran gnawed at her. To have been beaten by his patron, seen a man killed by a bhimkay, run for his life, then been in so much despair over his family he used jaf from a questionable source— he wasn’t the carefree boy he pretended to be.

Maybe it was time for her to be kinder to him. Maybe what he really needed was for her to be a friend. She had to admit it—after Devak’s abandonment, she could use a friend herself.

T
he next morning, Abran seemed to be back to his old self, at least the self he chose to show the world. While Kayla took her turn in the lorry’s washroom, she heard his light tenor voice singing a bawdy song to Risa. The lowborn woman’s guffaw rattled the washroom door. Risa had been ready to tear Abran’s head off earlier when she found out about the jaf, but the boy’s abject apology had apparently turned her around.

When Risa shared out the last of the nutras, Abran revealed his surprise. While Kayla and Risa were still sleeping, he’d crept out and gone down to the sticker bushes to gather a couple handfuls of pale blue berries to add to their breakfast.

Of course the sticker bush thorns had scratched his hands and forearms while he’d harvested the berries. Abran didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the thin red lines criss-crossing his brown skin, but they reminded Kayla far too much of Scratch. Her stomach clenched at the thought of him contracting the disease.

In that moment, as the sweet-tart berries all but melted on
her tongue, she realized that she wasn’t completely indifferent to Abran’s well-being. Last night she’d made a conscious choice to stop resenting his presence and to feel empathy for him instead.

There was still the call to Zul to make about the drugs and her own problem. But if things turned out as she expected— that Abran would continue with them—she would find a way to accept the boy.

“Abran,” Risa said, startling Kayla out of her reverie. “Need you with me at Streetmarket.”

“What about Kayla?” Abran asked.

“That your business?” Risa asked, staring down Abran. “After you bring jaf buzz onto my lorry, you think you can ask questions?” So she hadn’t forgiven him completely.

He shook his head. “Sorry.” Apparently the boy was learning to respect Risa.

“Go change,” Risa said. “Can’t have you wearing your worst at Streetmarket. Councilor likes his GENs looking tidy.”

“Use the new clothes?” Abran asked.

One of the councilor’s aides had sent three changes for Abran. He had the extras tucked away on top of one of the crate towers to keep Nishi from sleeping on them.

“What else, GEN?” Risa snapped. “Be quick.”

Kayla could see the questions in Abran’s eyes. One hard stare from Risa kept him silent. He crawled through the hatch to Nishi’s cubby and pulled the hatch door shut behind him.

“Councilor Mohapatra doesn’t give a rat-snake’s hind leg what we wear,” Kayla said.

“Gives us some private time, doesn’t it?”

One eye on the hatch to make sure Abran didn’t pop his
head through again, Risa handed over her wristlink. Kayla slipped it under the sleeper mattress.

“After your call, want you in the village,” Risa said, nodding in the direction of the lowborn encampment. “Find Aki. She’s Kiyomi’s sister, and Kinship. GEN boy and I will meet you there.”

Kayla and Risa stepped out into the chill morning to wait for Abran. A thicket of sticker bushes pierced with junk trees concealed all but a couple of the lowborn bhaile—tents the allabain built of sticker bush branches covered with plasscine sheets. Kayla could hear faint voices calling out—women reciting morning prayers to the twin god, Iyenkas, children’s excited squeals, a booming man’s voice ordering someone to go to the GEN well for water.