Lifer (28 page)

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Authors: Beck Nicholas

Tags: #Science fiction, #teen, #young adult, #space, #dystopian

BOOK: Lifer
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“Samuai,” one woman calls, desperation lining every syllable.

“Zed,” the other echoes.

I don’t move. Davyd’s similarly still beside me. A glance at him shows his icy and impassive expression. How much of what we’d find here did he know?

Mother and Lady return together. They’ve been in every room, even poking their heads into the whirring, throbbing engine room. The hope that had them running has drained, leaving each of them dragging their feet. My mother, so dark and tall and lean, Lady, blond and plump. For the first time they look horribly the same. It’s the matching sadness and fresh grief in their eyes.

Mother puts into words what I guessed from the moment we opened the doors.

“They’re gone. They’re all gone.”

We’ve won, only it feels like I’ve lost all over again.

Chapter Eighteen

 

[Samuai]

 

Keane was right. It would have taken me months to figure out the location of the Pelican alone. When he realizes I’m serious about combing every inch of coast, he uses the green robes’ resources to help track down key areas of unexplained Company movement. One includes an island and two others are old ports from before the Upheaval.

We sit around a table in the big kitchen area of the Station with Megs and Toby. I don’t know whether Keane’s cleared the meeting time with the rest of the green robes but no one bothers us. It leaves plenty of tables free to spread out maps with what looks like hand scrawled notes and numbers.

While we talk, I eat some more stew from the big pot that’s always on the stove. It reminds me of Farm Level and the limited diet we had on the ship.

But we always had spices. We always had the special alcohol at the End of Year ball. We had things that were impossible if we were really in space.

I just never questioned.

There will be a reckoning.

I piece together the scraps of memory in my head.

I’m standing with Maston. It’s foggy, as always in the early morning here. And high up. There’s a patch of water in the distance. And flowers.

“There have to be flowers,” I blurt.

Keane, Megs and Toby all turn to look at me with matching frowns.

“I remember yellow flowers.”

Toby tugs at his left ear in a thoughtful pose. “There ain’t no flowers left on the mainland.”

“Then it’s an island.” I lean over the map.

Keane’s stubby finger comes down hard on one of the drawings. “This is the one. It’s a small island that used to house a notorious prison back before the Upheaval. Now it’s one damn big mountain sticking out of the water.”

“How long will it take to get there? Darkness is probably better, right?”

Megs is perched on the closest chair but doesn’t speak. She plays with her hair. She’s been so quiet since my memories were returned. Maybe Samuai doesn’t interest her like Blank did. Each movement screams her worry but I resist telling her everything will be okay. It already isn’t.

Keane and Toby share a look. The older man gathers up the maps.

“We’ll go before dawn when anyone on guard will be at their most vulnerable.” Keane glares at me. “It’s only a few hours. Promise you’ll wait until then.”

With Eliza gone, the passing of time grates on my every nerve. I think I could find it myself, but I’d probably waste time I could sleep instead.

“Okay.”

He pulls something from his pocket and flips it to me. “From the game.”

I catch it. The silver token glints in the light. “Why?”

“Hopefully you have the answers I promised now.”

I slip it into my pocket. “We’re square.”

“It will be reconnaissance in the first instance. We need to see what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“Fine by me.” Keane can call it whatever he likes, but once we find the place I’m going in. Whether they’re with me or not.

 

***

 

I’ve barely closed my eyes when Toby wakes me. “Time to head out.”

I take thirty seconds to splash water on my face and then follow him down to the garage. Keane’s waiting with Megs. There’s a small pack of basic supplies for each of us, including a Q and a knife like the one Keane threatened me with earlier.

Keane’s not smiling.

“We’ll take two bikes to the dock and a small boat across the bay.”

“Sounds good.”

“You didn’t have to come,” I say softly when I climb on the bike behind Megs again. This time it’s even harder to resist pulling her close.

“I wanted to.”

No one bothers with a blindfold this time. I don’t know whether that means they’ve accepted me or that I won’t be released from their sight any time soon. The bikes roar through empty streets. Keane and Megs easily avoid chasms and debris along roads they must know well despite the darkness.

We kill the engines and coast down the hill to stop at an abandoned toy warehouse by the water. The faded sign hangs off the front and is still cheerful in the dim light. Another bearded man wearing a familiar green robe waits for us in the shadows. “Boat’s ready,” he says to Keane.

We board the small boat with its noisy, diesel-spewing engine and cross the choppy bay without anyone speaking much. I join Toby behind an oar for the last hundred feet. Ten minutes later, the boat bumps silently against the rocky shore.

My turn to lead. I disembark, followed by Keane, Megs, and Toby. There are no noises from the surroundings to suggest we’ve been seen. Moonlight through a gap in the clouds reveals an empty wooden dock nearby with a small dinghy similar to ours moored to it. Morning’s still a good two hours away.

“Anything look familiar?” Megs’ whisper is almost lost in the crashing of the water against the rocks.

“The entry to the ship is higher up,” I say. Which is true, and hopefully helps cover up the fact I don’t recognize anything here. I glance back over my shoulder, hoping to match the dark expanse of ocean with the scrap of blue sea I do remember.

Nothing.

I shiver in the early morning sea air.

“Here.” Toby pulls something from his pack.

I take the material in my hands and shake it out. “A green robe?”

He shrugs. “Might suit you.”

We take a few minutes to anchor the boat around the coast behind some rocks and metal debris. It’s not perfectly hidden but someone arriving or leaving the dock might not see it.

I’m hesitant to use the trail leading away from our landing point but each side’s the cracked, jagged rock typical of the Upheaval, only interrupted by the odd tree with a ghostly white trunk clinging to a patch of soil. I exhale in a sigh.

No yellow flowers.

Leaving my doubts behind, and refusing to look at anyone, I stride ahead along the trail with my Q in my hand. The Nauts are Company and they’ve shown fear of the Q. They must not have the advantages of breeding that I do.

The ship is on this island, in this mountain. It has to be.

As we climb higher, more soil covers the rock face and the trees are joined by undergrowth. No flowers interrupt the dark tangle beneath the overhanging branches. Waves break the silence behind us and salt in the air scents each breath I take.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

A new sound adds to the water. I stop to listen. Could it be an animal? It sounds like—

“Someone’s coming. Get off the trail.”

Moments later, we lie flat in the undergrowth. Megs between Keane and I, and Toby on the other side.

“What did you hear?” Megs’ whisper sounds loud in the night.

The approaching footsteps carry clearly through the trees. They’re coming from above. But there’s a puzzled frown on Megs’ face.

“They’re coming.” I listen again. “At a run.”

From their confused expressions, I add superior hearing to what’s different about me. Thinking back to the game at the warehouse, maybe it wasn’t just the
Focus’n
that gave me advanced reflexes.

Megs’ eyes widen, showing white as though the noise that’s been so clear to me reaches her at last.

“Quiet.” It’s Keane and he’s glaring at both of us.

We don’t move. I hold my breath, thankful for the green robe that makes my body disappear into the dense undergrowth. The noise gets closer and closer and then there’s a blur of approaching Company uniforms moving through the trees.

Megs tenses beside me. I look for familiar Naut faces above the uniforms of the green robes’ enemy. There’s one. He used to work in the Control Room. A flat line of fear has replaced Ike’s usually sleazy grin.

I was right. Relief chases the last of my doubts away. The ship’s on this island.

Four Nauts go past us. When it’s silent again Megs moves to stand. “There should be thirteen,” I whisper.

We wait a few minutes more in silence but nobody else comes down the trail. From below we hear the sound of the dinghy engine starting up and then moving away across the water.

The others look at me to make a decision. Keane glances up at the lightening sky through the fog. “If we wait much longer it’ll be light.”

I stride ahead. “Stay off the track.”

I pick my way between trees, looking up the trail and straining to hear anyone else approaching. There’s nothing. The fog increases until we’re more outlines than identifiable people. With no need to talk there’s plenty of thinking time.

What made the Nauts so afraid?

I’m sure Maston wasn’t among those fleeing down the mountain but it doesn’t mean we’ve avoided the man in charge. He might be waiting ahead.

Streaks of gray break up the black sky by the time we approach the top of the mountain. I stumble to stop myself at the edge of the small clearing. My pulse thuds in my ears.

This is it.

Nausea squeezes my gut in a nervous fist.

Where there should be celebration there’s only dread, the dread of trying to explain to a ship full of people they’ve been lied to. Trying to explain why I left. And trying to explain what happened to Zed when I still can’t think about it.

There are no signs of guards or any other people, just a heavy metal door in the rock. It squats beneath a serrated overhang, deep in the night shadows and fog. The thick trees have been cleared, leaving a kind of undulating meadow around it. The long grasses are filled with flowers. Despite the fog and the dark, the smudges of color are undeniable. Yellow flowers.

“Bush poppies,” Toby says, stopping beside me in the shelter of the last tree.

Keane and Megs don’t say anything but Megs’ slender hand slips into mine. She’s warm and real. Even though I know now Asher’s only feet away, I cling on for a last touch before everything goes to hell.

“That’s the door.” My observation is unnecessary but I need to say something and ‘I told you so’ seems a little childish. Part of me can’t believe it’s real, even though I have memories to tell me so. The simmering anger against the Company bubbles like bile into the back of my throat.

Keane runs his eye over the layout of the space. I know he’s thinking about the killing zone between the trees and the safety of the door. “We’ll need reinforcements.”

But I never planned to stop here.

“The door isn’t closed properly.” I point to the seal that sits out a finger’s width from the flush rock face.

Megs’ fingers tighten in mine. “We don’t know what’s in there.”

“I do.” I tug my fingers free. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does to let her go. I couldn’t hold on forever.

“We’re not going any further.” Keane speaks for all three.

Megs and Toby move to his side, leaving me alone closest to the edge of the clearing. I’m reminded that they might have lent me a robe but I am not one of them. I belong with those on the ship.

“My people are inside.” I take a deep breath and smell smoke. “There’s a fire.” The cramp in my gut becomes painful. “There’s a fire and that door’s the only way out. No wonder the Nauts ran.”

Keane stares at the door, sniffing the air, but he doesn’t take a single step in that direction. “They probably have it under control. No one else has followed.”

I shake my head. “Don’t you get it? They think they’re on a ship. There’s nowhere to go.” I strain to listen. “Did you hear a scream?”

I’ve taken two steps into the open. No one joins me but they don’t try to stop me either. I glance back. “It’s probably better I go alone.”

Megs stares at me with an unreadable expression. But I can’t worry about her now. She chose to stand with Keane.

Keane looks toward where the sun will rise in less than an hour. “We’ll wait as long as possible.”

“Thank you.” I don’t know whether I’m talking about them waiting, or the memories, or the robe but he seems to understand.

“Hurry,” whispers Megs.

My head down and heart galloping, I cross the meadow at a crouching run. I dodge and weave, reminded of the way I flew in the warehouse game. I’m braced for shouts or shots or something but my feet squishing on the damp grass is the only sound. I’m breathing heavily when I reach the door. I glance back to where the others wait in the shadows but am unable to see them.

Regret lances through me. I might never see Megs again and I didn’t even say goodbye. I lift my hand in farewell but there’s no movement to indicate they saw. Or that they’re even still waiting there as promised.

The smell of smoke is stronger here and it’s definitely coming from behind the door. There’s no obvious handle. The panel set into the rock face has a familiar ID swipe mechanism. But it’s slightly ajar.

I manage to slide my fingers along the edge and pry it open further.

Smoke drifts out, catching the early morning breeze. I drag the heavy door wider and step into the darkness, picturing the layout from when I was last here. The pain of the procedure to wipe my memories has left this time a little blurred. If I didn’t need to find my way, I’d be happy to leave these memories permanently buried.

I went to the Nauts for change. Maston encouraged me, and when the moment came it was Davyd who led me to the Control Room and praised my courage.

I asked questions, of course. But the answers were caught up in promises of secrecy and Maston telling me he was protecting me for my own good. I hate now how important and special he made me feel. I don’t know what I expected. Another ship, a chance to petition all thirteen Nauts? I don’t even know how Zed even managed to follow but he was the most brilliant kid I ever met.

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