CHAPTER 38
He gets it.
That startles me. I
don’t offer confirmation that he’s right, though. I don’t want to
talk.
But yeah, some days
it does seem more like a curse, just like that guy from mythology
who doesn’t die, who’s destined to wander and suffer. But I can’t
sustain that level of mental melodrama.
Pure physical
discomfort edges out such self-pity. I can’t even find the energy
to fret about working with Hit, or how the next jump will affect my
condition. I know Doc doesn’t want me to jump, but he should’ve cut
off my arm if he wanted to prevent me from jacking in.
Nothing else will
keep me from grimspace. Even now, the siren song makes me feel
itchy with need. The colors, the feeling that comes howling through
me as my mind expands. I need to be there like I need nothing
else.
More than March even.
I’m sure he knows that. That’s what happens when you love a
junkie.
As we walk, clouds
blot out the shimmer of the stars overhead. The storm Vel predicted
appears to be rolling in on schedule, and as the wind kicks up, it
goes right through me. You’d think I’d have remembered how cold it
is here, though to be fair, I didn’t realize I’d never be returning
to the ship.
I feel like a
prisoner of war.
We can’t stop moving,
but I can barely put one foot in front of the other. I hate this
weakness. Though I feel better than I did on Emry, I’m a long way
from full strength. The others seem to be bearing up all right. Up
ahead, I hear the low susurration of voices: Dina and Hit, getting
to know each other.
As always, Vel leads
the way in silence. Though I count him among my closest friends, I
don’t know much about him. That’s not likely to change while we
forge a desperate path through these hills.
Up and down we climb,
avoiding scout droids, McCullough patrols, and, of course, the
Teras, who will swarm and devour us if they catch our scent. But
between the liquid skin and Thermud, we’ve taken as many
precautions against that outcome as we can. My thighs and calves
burn, taut as drawn wire.
Add that to various
aches, including a stabbing pain where Jael landed on me, and I’d
give just about anything to lie down. Of course I suspect I’d never
get up again. I didn’t realize how soft I’d gotten, but a jumper’s
life is well padded.
“You holding up all
right?” Jael asks, well after I’ve lost track of how long we’ve
been walking.
“Does it matter?” I
mumble.
I don’t see how we’ll
be in any shape to steal a ship once we finally get there. But we
can’t pitch camp in the open, and a cavern in these hills would be
worse.
“Not really,” he
answers. “I’m just making small talk.”
“I have a better
idea. No talk. That’s been working like a
charm for hours.”
The bounty hunter
glances back at me. In this light, his faux-human skin looks a
little mottled. It’s probably time for him to slough it off and
grow new, but he won’t do that while he needs the
insulation.
“Sirantha, it will
serve no purpose if you become ill.” With an annoyed sound, he
delves into his pack and fishes out a tissue-thin insulated suit,
maybe the same one I wore on the Teresengi Basin.
It’s not that cold, but I scramble into it. I hope my body
heat, thus trapped, will warm me up soon. I wince in anticipation
because when the feeling returns, it’s going to hurt.
Ahead, Dina asks Vel,
“How much farther?”
She isn’t asking out
of weariness or personal discomfort. Shit, now I know what the
lights at the base of her sled mean. They’ve all dimmed but two. If
we don’t find a power source before that last light goes out,
she’ll be stranded.
“Four kilometers due
west from here,” Vel answers. “We’ll find a hangar.”
Like the one where we
landed the first time instead of going directly to the compound.
They’re maintained by droids and bots, officially independent of
clan allegiance. Merchant ships often put down there when they have
to deliver supplies on planet to multiple stops; it forestalls
accusations of partisan dealings.
I nearly crack my jaw
with a yawn. Four kilometers. Under optimum conditions in the
training room, I ran that without breaking
a sweat.
That was a long time,
another lifetime, ago.
Far be it for me to
question the leadership that’s gotten us this far, but . . . well,
someone has to. “What if no ships are docked there?”
They don’t tend to
stay long between dirtside deliveries anyway. Plus, the recent
unrest on Lachion will have made some merchant vessels reluctant to
risk it. Things won’t return to normal here for a while, though
weapons vendors may try their luck. They always do a brisk trade on
Nicuan.
“Why borrow trouble?”
Jael shakes his head and sighs.
“I never borrow it. That implies it wasn’t mine to start
with.”
“It’s a good
question,” Hit puts in quietly. “And I’d like it answered.”
Perhaps it’s simply
the hollow hills, but in the silence that follows, the wind carries
in a dolorous howl. I imagine wild animals just beyond my line of
sight, less terrible than the Teras, but just as hungry. How do the
clans survive such a savage world, so far from city lights and the
safety of space?
“I do not know,” Vel
says at last. By Jael’s astonished look, he didn’t expect that
answer either. We wait, hoping there’s more. “If nothing else, we
will find a secure place to rest and bounce a message to New Terra.
The McCulloughs cannot attack us on neutral territory without
breaching seven interstellar accords.”
I don’t like the
thought of waiting for rescue when anything can go wrong and
usually does. As if in response, the first delicate snowflakes
drift down, stick and shimmer in Hit’s dark hair. She brushes them
away and spins to see the white curtain coming down. Soon this
winter loveliness will sting.
“At least I’ll be
able to charge this thing.” Dina slaps the side of the sled and
then tips her head back to study the sky. “But I think we need to
pick up the pace.”
“Got that right.”
Beside me, Jael breaks into a jog that looks disgustingly
effortless. “Don’t fall behind, Jax.”
He should be
exhausted by now, scruffy and unshaven. Instead he’s just
bloodstained and dirty like the rest of us. I don’t see weariness
in his eyes, just a stupidly teasing light, like this is some big
adventure.
Well, maybe to him,
it is. Maybe Jael has endless reserves, thanks to his Bred
heritage. I know he can heal from wounds that would kill anyone
else.
As for me, I miss
March, and I want a shower. I wouldn’t say no to some of the perks
that an ambassador is reputed to receive. Thus far, I’ve gotten
nothing but murder attempts out of my time on the job.
With a scowl, I raise
my knees and force myself to run. Each jolt over rocky ground sends
a shock of pain down my side. No problem. I’ll just pretend this is
the training room, and I’m in peak form. No injury, no
illness.
Shit, if I can do all
that, why don’t I just wish us off this
rock?
When Dina
accelerates, the second-to-last light flickers and blinks out. Hope
that single cell has enough juice to take her four kilometers. Vel
doesn’t let her pass him, though. He increases his own rate of
movement to stay a meter ahead of us.
I don’t know how he
monitors his handheld and keeps an eye on the horizon at the same
time. It must be an Ithtorian gift because I would’ve tripped over
my own feet by now. He keeps one eye on each object, something
humans just can’t do.
The snow falls
heavier with each passing moment. In a way it’s good because it’ll
cover our tracks. Thanks to the Thermud, that also means we’re five
dark figures streaking over a white hillside and down into the
valley.
Nothing but open plains from here on out.
Our “camouflage”
makes us easier to spot, so I hope no McCulloughs lie between us
and the hangar. The snow stings, catching in my lashes and numbing
the visible portion of my face. Though I’m not the praying sort, I
cycle certain thoughts in a mantra timed to my racing
heart.
Please let there be a ship.
Please let us get there safely.
Please let Dina’s sled hold out.
Whether I’m
entreating Mother Mary or Lady Luck herself, I couldn’t say. I just
know when the building looms up out of the storm, blocky and ugly
as an old Gehenna whore, I’ve never been so glad to see anything in
my life.
Because I don’t think
I can go another step.
