Lifer (23 page)

It works. “Only of Samuai,” I snap.

“He’s not going to keep you warm at night.”

I allow a slow smile to curve my lips. “But the memories—”

“You don’t know anything about him,” he growls, but some of the confidence from earlier is missing.

Without thinking, I curl my fingers around the lapel of his jacket. “Tell me.”

He roughly dislodges my hand. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

His gaze meets mine. It’s all heat and anger and I’m not sure whether he’s going to haul me into his arms and kiss me senseless or slap me. But we’re in a room full of his peers and Davyd is never out of control for long.

“Forget it,” he mutters.

“I can’t. I’m wondering whether you actually plan to keep your word or if this is an exercise in humiliating me.”

“Your feelings aren’t my concern.”

“Lookee what we have here.” It’s Tesae, as drugged as all the others and looking as much like a sofa as Kaih suggested. The bulbous wings of her dress resemble the armrests and her chest two puffy cushions. “Hi ya, handsome.” She runs pale fingers up over Davyd’s chest, then behind his neck, leaning in for a kiss.

As her painted lips smear from his cheek to his mouth, he’s looking at me. I look away.

With Davyd claimed, she turns her focus on me. “Did they run out of time to make your dress?” A tinkle of amusement follows the question.

I don’t dare answer in case I say something I regret.

My gaze is lowered but I see her red-clad leg curl around Davyd’s. She must be clinging to him to stay upright. “It almost makes me feel sorry for her,” Tesae whispers loudly. “Except that she’s scum who shouldn’t even be here.”

Don’t, Asher. She’s not worth it.

I count individual strands of the cream carpet and breathe deeply.

“You’re right,” agrees Davyd. “The dress is terrible. The way it shows off all that smooth skin, that sheer skirt that reveals legs that could make a guy turned on if he looks too long. Don’t get me started on her cleavage.”

I look up to catch Tesae blinking, like she’s not sure whether Davyd’s agreed with her or not. But I know, because I felt every word like a rough caress. Laughter at the other girl’s confusion mixes with something hotter in my chest.

Now I know what he thinks of my dress.

The tension breaks when Tesae forces him into conversation about some delicacy they served earlier and my stomach rumbles. I’m not going to be much use in the Control Room if I’m faint with hunger. Lady’s a few feet away, talking to one of the Naut servants who balances a large tray of food in one hand.

I move to her side. “Can I help you Lady?”

Her hand takes mine, her nails digging into the skin inside my wrist. “I was just telling this boy he reminds me of my Samuai.”

Apart from his brown hair, the servant looks nothing like her dead son. Would Mother see Zed’s face in the unfamiliar features of a stranger? I don’t wonder for long because the darting of Lady’s eyes tells me she’s close to having an attack. “That’s nice,” I say. If she falls apart here, I’ll be straight back to the apartment at her side and the chance of going to the Control Room will disappear.

The servant says nothing. I take two plates from him, not dwelling on how wrong it feels to be served by another, and pile both with miniature catfish pies, the only food I recognize. “Would you like something to eat Lady?”

The distraction method’s helped before. But I couldn’t be that lucky tonight.

Lady reaches out past the plate. “Did you know Samuai?” she asks the boy. “My son was so beautiful…so cruelly taken from his mother.” Tears streak Lady’s face.

The boy shakes his head, his eyes darting around for escape from the crazy Lady. He isn’t much older than Zed. I try desperately to think of something to do that will let him flee before she starts thinking he’s Samuai.

I bite into the light pastry. “This is delicious. You should try one.”

Where’s Davyd when I need him? I catch the thought before it grows. Now’s not the time to rely on a Fishie.

“Delicious,” I say loudly.

Lady looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time tonight. “Asher, I didn’t see you there.” Her gaze drops to the food. “They look lovely, may I try one?”

“Of course Lady.”

As she takes a bite, I jerk my head to suggest the boy leave. He doesn’t need a second suggestion, blending silently into the crowd. I exhale relief and bite into my second pie as Lady looks around in surprise.

Is she looking for the boy? I tense, ready with an excuse for him when she smiles a satisfied smile. “I’m glad to get you alone. Have you found out what happened to Samuai?”

We spend most of our days alone in the apartment and she’s asking me here? “Not yet, Lady.”

She drops the plate. The food splatters across the thick carpet as the white plate breaks. The pies are warm and sticky on my feet, staining my dress. Fishies look. Their gazes accuse. What did the uninvited Lifer girl do to Lady?

I force them from my mind. “Lady, do you need to rest?”

She lifts a shaking hand to wipe her brow. “A lie down would be lovely. The noise, you know.”

But her words carry, because for the first time the conversation in the room’s quieted to a whisper.

Huckle and five other older Fishies stagger to Lady’s side. All of them have the hazy look of the tubes. I step out of the way as she’s escorted from the room. A wicked piece of the plate bites into my heel. I bend to pick it up and then slide it into the fold of my dress. I’m not asked to go with my mistress; all the attention is on Lady, who bends over and vomits in the doorway.

What a performance.

Apart from Huckle, other Fishies follow her out of the room at a distance. Each of the men radiates excitement. They’re expecting an attack from the Lifer rebellion.

“They’re armed you know. I think there’s a fair chance they’ll take each other out.” Davyd’s smooth voice wraps around me. Unsurprised, I face him. With the distraction of the attempted rebellion, there’s no better time to take me to the Control Room.

And the pieces click into place.

Mother guessed what my presence at the ball meant; this staging of an attack on Lady is her way of creating a diversion. My resentment’s washed away on a grateful tide of understanding. Rather than doubting my courage, she’s helping me in the only way she can.

Thank you, Mother.

Davyd’s words register. “You’re not worried about your parents?”

“My mother can look after herself.”

No mention of Huckle. Now isn’t the time to press him on their strange relationship. There’s so much more politics to the Fishie existence than I observed in my years on the lower levels. Davyd insists that I didn’t really know Samuai because of some secret; but secret aside, his life must have been so different from what he showed me in our forbidden meetings. Maybe Davyd’s right.

Pain follows the thought, swift and sharp. I loved Samuai and he loved me. I have to stay strong.

Davyd takes my hand. I hope he doesn’t notice it’s damp. I don’t want him to think I’m scared. Around us, the noise level rises as conversations start up again, everyone whispering about Lady’s turn. “When we walk out those doors, there’s no going back,” he says. “Are you ready?”

My hand drops to caress the sharp edge of my makeshift weapon. “Bring it on.”

Together, we walk out of the ball. No one stops us or points; nobody even looks our way. The biggest walk of my life and it might as well be a trip to use the toilet facilities.

“I’m not sure this is a good plan,” I whisper a few minutes later.

“I am. And that’s what counts.”

I’m busy staring at the ground trying to appear subservient so I only hear the confidence in his voice.

He’s brave, I’ll give him that much. I expected something covert when we left the ball, but he leads me to the elevator and up to the Control Room level, brazen as can be. At each set of doors he swipes his wrist across the scanner and is granted immediate access. Our footfalls are loud in the silent corridors. I’m making mental notes to report to Mother. The hammering of my heart and swirling in my belly makes it hard to think at all, let alone remember details.

Keep going. For Samuai. For Zed.

I think of the young men I’ve lost when my knees threaten to give way and find the will to keep walking.

The hallway leading to the Control Room is no different from those on the Fishie level below. This time of night it’s softly lit. We’re the only ones here. The attempt on Lady’s probably still occupying the Fishies. Still, I half expect to be stopped and questioned with every step I take toward our destination. My father died attempting this same walk.

Davyd leans close. “The doors at the end of the hall,” he murmurs into the curve between my neck and shoulder.

“So close.” My mouth dries and I misstep. I can’t believe I’m walking to the place my father died trying to reach, the place my people have dreamed of reaching for so long. And I walk with Davyd. With only a piece of plate for a weapon.

He steadies me with his hand on the small of my back, sending tingles across my skin. I turn to face him. I don’t ask aloud whether he’s sure about this but he must read the question in my eyes.

“Hiding in the open Asher. All you need is guts.”

I straighten my spine and lift my head high. “I’ll be fine then.”

His wrist presses against the scanner. “That’s my girl.”

I’m not your girl
. I want to cry the words. But I can’t, because the doors to the Control Room slide open.

I hold my breath.

Where I expected huge displays, and floor to ceiling buttons, dials, and screens, there’s three ordinary consoles, not so different from the ones we use for watching the Earth recordings, a black leather sofa, and a couple of round tables. No Remote Device—not that I have a clue what it looks like beyond black and small and deadly with a button or maybe a switch.

There’s movement. A Naut mans one of the consoles.

Crap.

Afraid to breathe in case he looks up, I back away. If I get out of here, I’ll pretend this never happened and maybe I won’t have my sentence extended to take up the rest of my natural life. Maybe.

I back right into the warm flesh wall that is Davyd. His hand wraps around my shoulder, intimate and strangely reassuring. “Did you think there’d be nobody here?” he murmurs.

Somewhere in my brain I knew there would be someone monitoring the ship, I guess, but since I couldn’t get my mind past getting to the Control Room, no, I didn’t really think about it.

But I’m not going to admit that to Davyd.

“I thought you’d sort that out.”

“I have.”

He clears his throat loudly and the Naut looks up. Davyd pulls me even closer and gives an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, I thought Maston had cleared this.”

The Naut’s an older man who reminds me of Huckle, except he’s lean and hard where Huckle is soft and pudgy. He takes in our fancy clothes and the fact Davyd’s pretty much carrying me because my knees fail me and makes his own conclusions.

His dark gaze runs over my body and his fat lips curl in a leer. “Don’t blame you Davyd.” He sniggers and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ll leave now to give you two a little
alone
time.”

Davyd winks. “Owe you one.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” He licks his lips in a way that makes my already nervous stomach turn.

The Naut keeps his gaze on us as he logs off and moves toward the set of doors across the room. Playing up for our audience, Davyd’s arms go around me and he nuzzles the side of my neck. I hold myself still against my nerves and against my body’s traitorous response.

The nuzzling becomes a kiss on my throat. Then another. Then he meets my lips with his.

My eyes close. My hands meet around his neck as I press my body closer. Our kiss is gentle and sweet and wonderful. It’s everything I’ve dreamed about when I couldn’t even admit I was dreaming of this moment.

It’s Davyd.

I open my eyes.

“He’s gone,” I say when the doors close behind the Naut.

“So?” Davyd kisses me again, the haze in his eyes reminds me of the other Fishies. I know he hasn’t touched a drop from the black vials. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“Shows how much you know,” I lie.

I hate that I force myself to push him away. I’m mourning someone who was truly worth my love. I shouldn’t feel anything for this Fishie who I don’t even like most of the time, who’s made it clear how beneath him I am.

“I know,” he says simply. His fingertips brush my mouth and it’s all I can do not to lean toward him.

“Remember why we’re here?” I say to remind myself as much as him.

He drops his hands like I’m poison. “How could I forget? Beloved Samuai.”

“And Zed.”

“Ah yes, the little brother who got in the way,” he says with a sneer in his voice.

I stop moving toward the console but I snap my head around at his words. “What the hell does that mean?”

I’d put his snide comments about Samuai down to general nastiness, or something between the brothers from before the accident, but suddenly it all adds up. Maybe I never needed to come to the Control Room to get my answers.

“What do you mean saying Zed got in the way?” I repeat.

His arms are crossed. The haze is gone and his eyes are clear, gray and deadly. “Maybe you should ask your boyfriend.”

“Funny. How exactly do you propose I question a dead man?”

In two steps he’s closed the distance between us. He grabs my hand and drags me to the chair in front of the nearest console. His heavy hand on my shoulder forces me to sit. “How did you plan to get any information from the cremation logs?” he barks. When I don’t answer immediately, he reaches over and swipes a finger over the reader. “There, I’ve even unlocked it for you. What now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must have a plan.” He’s shouting like getting caught doesn’t matter.

I’m scared. Not of Davyd this time but of what he’ll tell me if I have the courage to make him.

“I don’t know.”

What’s happening here is out of my control. I can’t think. Dread overwhelms the nerves and hot tears prick at my eyes. What if I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake? Finding out what happened to Samuai might not be something I really want to know.