Skybreach (The Reach #3) (6 page)

“Or maybe we’ll never hear from them again after today,” Holger said.

“We can’t take that chance,” Knile said.  “Silvestri’s right.  A three-mon
th plan is no good to us if the
Wire shuts down in three weeks.  We have to assume the worst case scenario here.”

“I think it’s suicide,” Yun said.  “It’s like jumping off a cliff before we’ve strapped
the parachutes on our backs.”

“I know this has been a tough week,” Silvestri said.  “Worse than that.  It’s been horrendous.”  He bowed his head.  “A week ago there were fifty of us, and now there’s less than twenty.  We’ve all lost people close to us.  We’ve seen them die, or walk out the door through disillusionment.”  He looked up at them.  “I can’t blame you for doubting, but I’m telling you that this is the only way.  We can’t roll the dice on this one.”  He glanced down at the coin.  “The odds are against us.  We have to stay ahead of the game.”  He pointed to the doorway.  “If you truly believe that all is lost, I ask that you leave now.  You might as well go on your way.  There’s no room left for doubt.”

They all looked at one another, each trying to gauge the others’ thoughts.  Talia saw a range of emotions, from confusion to doubt to outright fear.  Knile seemed unflappable, as usual, even offering her a little smile and a nod.

Suddenly Holger pushed away from the wall and took a few plodding steps toward the door, tugging his belt up over his belly as he went.  Talia moved out of the way and he paused at the threshold, half turning back to them.

“I’m not leaving, I just need to use the crapper,” Holger said, punctuating the end of his statement with a crisp burp.  “Can we wrap this thing up?”

Silvestri rolled his eyes and placed the silver coin back in his pocket.

“You have twenty-four hours,” he said to them.  “Twenty-four hours to brainstorm ideas and come up with some possibilities that we can explore for the new timeframe.  We’ll meet back here to discuss them at this time tomorrow.”

Holger left without another word, and moments later the others began to filter past Talia, already chattering about the implications of what Silvestri had told them.  Knile exchanged a few words with Lazarus, who was the only one who hadn’t yet moved, and then met Talia at the door.

“Should be a cinch, huh?” he said.

Talia smirked.  “Whatever you say.”

6

Ursie tucked up her knees and clasped her hands under her shins and began to rock back and forth on the cot.  She squeezed her eyes shut and drew her lips back against her teeth, attempting to endure the latest surge of pain as best she could.  She could still sense the bitter aftertaste of the aspirin on her tongue, even though she’d consumed it several hours before.  It had been
the last speck of medicine Tobias had left for her.

She hadn’t eaten anything since, hadn’t wanted to.

This throbbing pain behind her eyes, like hot pokers stabbing into her brain, had robbed her of her appetite.  More than that, it had stolen her ability for rational thought.  The aspirin, before it had run out, had been moderately effective for a while, but it hadn’t gone close to relieving
the pain or even making her comfortable.

It had been like this ever since her final encounter with van Asch in the observation room.

To be fair, the headaches were
slowly reducing in severity.  For t
he first twenty-four hours she had writhed around on the floor in agony, wishing she were
dead, wondering how on earth she wasn’t.  Tobias had been out and about most of the time, attending to his various duties in the habitat, and that had effectively left her to struggle through the torment on her own.  When he had returned, he’d sat there nonplussed, not really knowing what to make of this strange, anguished girl who had appeared in his tiny apartment.  He’d sought out the aspirin for her from a supply room one level up, but when he’d offered to take her to the infirmary, she’d declined.

“No,” she’d managed to say.  “No doctors.  They can’t know I’m here.”

Ursie didn’t know for sure, but she suspected that there were people in the habitat looking for her right now.  She’d left somewhat of a mess in the observation room – not only the mangled remains of Jodocus van Asch, but the bodies of the young couple van Asch had slaughtered when he’d first entered the room
as well
.  The ones he had killed with nothing but the power of his mind.

The authorities would want to know what had happened and why, and it was entirely possible that someone had seen Ursie leaving the area, dishevelled and bloody and wild-eyed after the conflict with van Asch.

For days she had remained in this tiny, closet-like room, with nothing to help her pass the time but the steady rhythm of that pounding in her skull, the incessant drum beat that would not leave her alone.

She distantly wondered if van Asch had broken something inside of her, if he’d torn something apart that could never be put back together.

What if these headaches never go away?

That didn’t bear thinking about.  She couldn’t imagine living that way.

At times she had found fitful moments of sleep, but these too had been horribly unpleasant.  Van Asch
had been
lingering there in the deep recesses of her mind, like a ghoulish spectre at the bottom of a dark well waiting for her to drift downward in her slumber.  Images of their battle formed into nightmares; she remembered the way his mind had entered hers, the way he had ripped and torn at her innards like a mad thing, pushing his way deeper and deeper until he seemed to fill her whole consciousness.  It was a violation so thorough, so complete, that she could not even begin to understand it, let alone deal with it.

Even if the headaches eventually stopped, she doubted the nightmares would.  Some part of her knew that she would carry the scars of that assault for the rest of her life.

There was a rattle at the door and she turned to see it swing open, revealing Tobias standing outside.  The old man smiled as he laid eyes on her, giving her a nod of greeting, then stepped inside and closed the door.

“Still in the land of the living, Missy?” he said affably.

Ursie pressed her palms into her eyeballs.

“To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure anymore.”

Tobias gave a little chuckle.  “All is not lost, then.  Your sense of humour is still alive and kickin’.”

“You think I’m joking,” she said drily.

He fiddled over by the counter with a bag of some kind, then came and sat beside her on the cot.  Before she could react he had pressed something against her forearm.  She felt a sharp prick on her skin.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, struggling away from him.  “What are you doing?”

He looked at her apologetically.  When he spoke there was a kind of sadness in his voice.

“Well, I’m sorry, but… I can’t sit by and watch you flop around in pain anymore, no?”

“What did you do?” she said, clutching at her arm.  There was a tiny pinprick of blood there which she wiped away.

“I went and saw Petey, the infirmary man, told him I had the mother of all back spasms this mornin’ and that I could barely walk two steps without it hurtin’ up a storm.”  He gave a cheeky flick of his eyebrows.  “Even pretended to walk funny so he’d fall for it.”  Tobias looked down at the vial in his hand.  “Anyhow,
Petey
said this here medicine would calm it down quick smart.  Said it was the strongest stuff he had.”

Ursie relaxed a little.  “What is it?”

“Well, I don’t know the name, but he said it works quick and it wouldn’t put me to sleep, so I figured that would do.”

Ursie closed her eyes again, and she realised that the pain in her skull was already beginning to recede.  Whatever the old man had given her seemed to be helping.

She opened her eyes and exhaled, thankful for the moment of respite.

“Thank you, Tobias.”

“Workin’?” he said.

“I think so.”

He nodded once, emphatically, looking pleased with himself.

“So let’s eat,” he announced.  He got up and stood over the counter on the other side of the room, grasping two bowls from a high cabinet and arranging them before him.  “You okay with beef broth?”

“Sounds fine.”

“Good.  I don’t do too good with solids these days.”  He tapped his belly.  “Digestive bits are all worn out, I guess.”

He began to manipulate the shiny metallic gadget in the corner, which seemed to be a kind of all-purpose appliance that spat out tea, broth, or whatever else the old man needed at the push of a button.  He filled one bowl and handed it over to her, then repeated the process for himself.

“Ahh,” he said, taking a sip and settling himself at the other end of the cot.  “That’s what you need after a long day at the coalface.”

Ursie took a sip, realising for the first time how hungry she was.

“It’s good, thank you.”

“Welcome.”

Ursie gulped at the broth, finishing half the bowl in two mouthfuls, then decided it might be prudent for her to pace herself.  She put the bowl down and realised that she had finally regained the capacity to think clearly for the first time in days.  She shimmied over to other side of the bed, scanning the nearby shelf as the pain became little more than a dull throb in her temples.

Tobias had been collecting tiny statues, it seemed.  There was a small marble elephant, a giraffe, several jade animals, as well as a wood carving of a man on horseback.  Ursie plucked the carving from the shelf and turned it over in her hands, savouring the smooth texture and the weight of it.

“You like horses?” Tobias said.

“Never seen one,” Ursie admitted.

Tobias seemed surprised.  “But you spent your whole life on Earth, no?”

“Yep.”

“And never seen one the whole time?”

“Nope.”

“Well that’s…”  Tobias scratched at his chin.  “That’s a damn shame.”

Ursie thought back to her escape with Knile, when they’d been chased by Alton Wilt’s men, and recalled the dark room that had contained a large cattle pen.

“I saw some cows, once.  That’s kinda the same thing, isn’t it?”

Tobias gave her an incredulous look.  “Kinda the–?”  He twisted his mouth sourly.  “Not the same thing at all.  Not by half.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Cows are dumb animals, don’t y’know?  Not a lick of personality between ’em.  A horse, on the other hand, now that’s a magnificent beast.  Strong and courageous, loyal.  A real companion.”

“Shame.  I guess they all died out.”

He shot her a doubtful glare.  “No, sir.  I won’t hear of that.”  He nodded to himself.  “They’re out there, runnin’ wild somewhere.  Runnin’ free.”

Ursie thought of the toxic plains of Earth far below and couldn’t bring herself to believe it.  Still, she wasn’t about to crush the old man’s fantasy.

“I guess you’re right.”  She placed the carving back on the shelf.  “So why do you collect these things?”

“Reminds me of Earth, ’course.  There’s still a place in my heart for the old girl.”

“Really?  You’d have to be the
first person I’ve ever met who felt that way.”

“I had the privilege of seeing her back when she still had beauty, still had potential.  Before things went down the shitter.”  He gave her a wink.  “Most folk who saw her like that are dead now.”

“If you like it there so much, why are you still here in the habitat?”

Tobias took another sip of broth.  “I thought of askin’ someone to send me back down a while ago, but I…  I guess I never got around to it.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Ursie said. 
Better to keep those memories alive than to see what’s truly become of the place
, she almost said, but she kept the thought to herself.

Tobias did not reply, instead preferring to stare at the wall, deep in thought.  It was not uncommon for him to do this, Ursie had noticed, losing himself in his memories at the slightest provocation.  She imagined him navigating through those broken recollections of the past, fighting against the disease that had created great dark patches in his mind, and that piqued her curiosity.  She instinctively reached out with her psycher abilities to probe at his consciousness.

The pain was as intense as it was immediate, the stabbing sensation in her brain cutting through the drug like a dagger through wet paper.  She cried out and threw her hands up in front of her face, retracting her psychic probe as if Tobias’ mind were the jaws of a crocodile.

“You all right?” Tobias said, concerned.

“Yeah,” Ursie gasped, breathing hard, her eyes squeezed shut.  Already the pain was beginning to subside.  “I just had a moment there.”

Mental note,
she thought.
  Don’t try reaching out with your mind again for the time being, Ursie.

“Hope those drugs aren’t wearing off already,” Tobias said.

“No.”  Ursie opened her eyes and gave him a reassuring smile as the pain receded.  “I’m fine.”  She glanced across at the shelf again, hoping to find a way of changing the subject.  There were four photo frames of various sizes sitting there, but with one common trait – they were all empty.  They appeared to be nothing more than dusty squares of glass bordered by rectangles of glinting metal.