Catalyst

  Lhyn opened her mouth to tell her it was all right, but Ekatya held up her hand.

  “Don’t speak to me. Not yet. Don’t let him know you see me. But I am here, Lhyn. This is not a hallucination. I’m really here, and you have to survive this so we can get you out.”

  “Dr. Rivers, would you like this to stop?”

  Kane was watching her as calmly as ever, the hated control in his perfectly manicured hand.

  “Yes,” Lhyn croaked.

  Kane’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Then—”

  “But your price is too high.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You should have stopped after ‘yes.’ This one will hurt.”

  And oh, Shippers, it did. He chose the lower rib on her right side, to match the lower left rib he had already broken. It seemed to take an hour for the giant fist to slowly, viciously tear her bone apart.

  When it ended, she slumped in the chair, held upright only by the neck and forehead restraints. Her throat hurt from the screams, and she could not stop a cough. It sent such a wave of pain through her abdomen that she nearly passed out.

  But she was done. She had survived four.

  She opened her eyes, seeking Ekatya and finding her exactly where she had been before, anguish carved in every line of her face.

  It’s all right, I’m done, she wanted to say, but the words were torn from her brain along with every other rational thought when the seizure slammed into her upper left chest.

  The sheer shock of it undid her completely. She didn’t understand how she couldn’t be done. Kane was obsessed with order; he had been torturing her in a linear progression. This went against everything she had observed in him. It didn’t make sense.

  Only now did she realize that being prepared for pain could make a difference in how it felt. She had not been prepared for this, and it was by far the worst. She no longer made any sound as she screamed.

  After an eternity of agony, it stopped, but that hardly mattered anymore. She was terrified by the realization that she no longer knew what to expect. Not since this torture had begun had she been so close to giving up. She had no strength to open her eyes, not even to see Ekatya.

  When Osambi began to remove the restraints, the relief sent tears coursing down her cheeks. It was over. He wasn’t going to hurt her again. She could live for another few hours.

  “Lhyn, I’m still here.” Ekatya’s voice trembled. “I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere. Fucking Hades, I don’t even know if you’re conscious. What?”

  “Gently, Osambi. At this point, she’s rather fragile. I wouldn’t want any internal organs to be punctured. She may want to die, but I can’t let that happen just yet.”

  “Dr. Wells says you’re still conscious, because if you weren’t, I’d be thrown out of this connection. Listen to my voice. You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

  She would never have guessed that Osambi knew how to be gentle, but the huge man somehow got her out of the chair and onto the bed without hurting her any more than necessary.

  “I’m still here, Lhyn. It’s over for now.”

  Breathing was nearly impossible. She had matching broken ribs on each side of her chest, both high and low, and abdominal muscles torn and strained beyond bearing. Being conscious was a torment all on its own, and she longed for the escape of sleep. Or drugs. She remembered the beautiful peace of the drug Kane had given her and wondered what it would cost her for another dose.

  “Open your eyes, Dr. Rivers.”

  She really did not know if she could.

  “Are you that easily broken? Just by a little surprise?”

  “You despicable piece of shit.” Ekatya spat out the words, her voice brimming with a hatred Lhyn had never heard before. “You’re not worth the dirt under her feet. If I ever get my hands on you, you’ll know what it means to be broken.”

  She might have been losing her mind, but this fantasy was far better than reality. If Ekatya were truly here, Kane would already be in pieces.

  Simply envisioning it gave her strength, and she peeled open her eyes to find Ekatya standing next to Kane, glaring at him with a burning fury. Oblivious to the vengeful spirit beside him, he smiled down at Lhyn.

  “Ah, there you are. You’re very intelligent, but you can make mistakes. Sometimes you forget that, don’t you? You’re the best in your field, and you forget that you’re not always right, not every time. You were wrong today. Do you understand how yet?”

  She no longer understood anything, a fact he seemed all too aware of as he added, “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. After all, I did give you all the clues you needed. I numbered your lessons for you. Your mistake was forgetting the first one.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you also made a mistake about the Alseans. There’s no shame in admitting it. And then this could all be over.”

  Straightening, he smiled more broadly, then turned and left. The door clicked shut.

  Ekatya stepped to the bed, her silky black hair sliding over her uniformed shoulders. She looked so healthy, so whole.

  “They’re gone,” she said. “But I’m still here. Tell me what happens next. How long do you have before they come back?”

  Lhyn licked her lips and tried to find enough saliva to swallow. Her throat was so dry from the screaming that she was not sure she could speak.

  “Say it in High Alsean.”

  Her eyes opened all the way, and she looked at Ekatya—really looked at her—for the first time.

  The hallucinatory Ekatya would not ask her to speak in High Alsean. That was a strategic tactic, and strategy was Ekatya’s specialty. Not hers.

  “Is it really you?”

  Ekatya’s smile was breathtaking. “It’s really me. My body is on the Phoenix, and Dr. Wells is taking good care of it. But the part of me that matters is here with you.” She tilted her head, listening to something Lhyn could not hear. “Dr. Wells begs to differ and says my body matters, too. I suppose she has to say that; she’s a chief surgeon.”

  Pain was malleable, it seemed. It was worse when she wasn’t expecting it, and right now, with joy rushing through her veins, it was better. Ekatya was here. Just looking at her made it easier to breathe.

  “Tell Dr. Wells thank you,” she whispered. “If I don’t survive, at least I’ll die having seen you one more time.”

  “Oh, no. No no no. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to get you out. Lhyn, listen. I can only connect as long as you’re in this state. If Kane comes in here and drugs you again, I’ll lose you. And if you fall asleep, I’ll lose you. So we have to act now.”

  “How…” She swallowed, grateful to even be able to, and found that she could speak in a rasping voice. “How do you know he drugs me?”

  “Because I was here before. That wasn’t a hallucination. That was me. But I was dreaming; we did it by accident. This is on purpose.”

  It took a moment for the import of that to sink in. When it did, a whole new level of dread came with it.

  “Then…you know?” she asked hesitantly. “About the rest?”

  Ekatya reached out, her fingers hovering above Lhyn’s cheek. “I wish I could touch you, like I did in that dream. Yes, I know. And you’re still the most courageous person I’ve ever met.”

  The sheer relief loosened a tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with Kane’s cruelty. Tears leaked out, sliding down her temples and into her hair. “You really were here. You know what that means to me.”

  “I do, tyrina.” Ekatya smiled again, her beauty lighting up the room. She was like a comforting, golden glow in the dark and terrifying cave Lhyn had been living in. Her mere presence imparted strength.

  Slowly, carefully, Lhyn pushed herself up and back to lean against the headboard. Moving hurt, but it was slightly easier to breathe in this position. “They won’t come back for a while. Kane’s pattern
is to hurt me, then throw me in here so I can think about how much it hurts and how I can make it stop. Then they come in and…make it hurt less.”

  She could not meet Ekatya’s gaze.

  “There is no shame in submitting,” Ekatya said quietly. “It’s no less true now than it was then. It doesn’t change just because I’m really here this time.”

  She looked up to see Ekatya watching her with eyes full of love and not an atom of judgment. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Ekatya nodded. “Let me tell you what’s happening out here. It turns out that Kane Muir has a very powerful enemy. Sholokhov hates him. He hates him so much that he’s helping me find you, and he’s not even asking for lifetime slavery in return.”

  Lhyn managed a tiny smile. “That’s a lot of hate.”

  “I know. So just think about what Sholokhov will do to Kane when he catches him. That man will not go to any prison we’ve ever heard of.”

  “Make sure he catches Osambi, too. He’s a monster. I don’t know which one is worse.”

  “Lhyn, I only know what you pushed in my head during that dream. Do you have any idea where you are?”

  She shook her head. “It looks like an expensive hotel room. And I got a glimpse of the hall outside. That looks like a hotel, too. But I don’t know where. I can’t see out the window.”

  Ekatya glanced at it with a startled expression. “That is…very strange.”

  “What?”

  “I couldn’t see the window until you mentioned it. It’s like I’m not seeing through my eyes or yours. More like I’m seeing through your memories, your thoughts. And I’m making some kind of visual composite out of them.” She frowned. “So they’ve deactivated the window. We need to reactivate it.”

  “I don’t know how to do that.”

  “I don’t either, but you know what? I have a shipload of engineers here.” She switched to Common. “Dr. Wells, call the chief engineer—no, wait, he’ll take forever to explain and nobody will understand it. Do you know an engineer who can give clear, concise instructions on how to temporarily disable a plexan window? Lhyn’s has been turned opaque and she can’t see anything.” She paused. “Perfect. Call him right now. Keep it on your internal com and don’t let him come down here, just…tell him to walk you through disabling this one and then reactivating it again.” Switching back to High Alsean, she said, “Dr. Wells knows someone. I thought she might. Doctors know everyone. She’s going to practice on the window here in the surgery bay.”

  Lhyn could only look at her, marveling at her existence in this place.

  “What?” Ekatya asked.

  “It’s really you. Not even in my most feverish dreams could I come up with the things you’re saying. It’s just so…you.”

  “It’s really me, tyrina.” She tilted her head. “And I am so proud of you. What I said in that dream—Kane is a professional. Sholokhov says he’s the best in the business. And he can’t break you. I think you’re driving him insane with your resistance.”

  She didn’t believe that. “I’m not resisting anymore. The last two times, I sat in that chair without him even asking.”

  “Hm.” Ekatya pursed her lips. “What is the second rule of capture?”

  She seized on the question just as she had in the dream, when having a pleasant memory had meant so much. “It’s…to delay.”

  “You’re incredible. You weren’t even paying attention, and that was years ago. Yes, to delay. To say or do anything necessary to avoid acts that might debilitate you or make you unable to assist your own rescue, as long as what you do doesn’t compromise your mission or your loyalties. Did sitting in that chair without being asked compromise the Alseans?”

  “No.”

  “Did it keep you from being hurt even worse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it was the right thing to do.” She shifted her head. “Dr. Wells is back.” For quite some time she was silent, giving Lhyn the space to think about what she had said.

  She was looking at this from the perspective of a Fleet captain. And she approved of what Lhyn had done. She knew what had happened and she was…proud.

  When Ekatya focused on her again, Lhyn was feeling far stronger and more herself. It was remarkable, she thought, how losing the burden of shame and guilt could have a physiological effect.

  “Lhyn, I wish I could do this for you. But I can’t interact with anything physical. I have to ask you to stand up and walk over to the control pad for the window.”

  She looked at the distance from the bed to the opposite wall. It seemed insurmountable.

  “I can do it,” she said. She had to.

  “I know you can. Don’t do it yet, though. I’m certain Kane has you under audio observation, but he may also be watching you. If he’s watching, then you won’t have much time. So let me talk you through it before you move.”

  Anything that let her rest longer was fine with her. “Okay.”

  “It might be very simple. Kane most likely assumed you wouldn’t have any idea how to reactivate that window, so he probably didn’t damage it. He just interrupted the circuit that powers the internal reaction.”

  “Simpler words, please. I don’t speak engineering.”

  Ekatya smiled at her. “One of the very few languages you don’t speak. First, you’re going to take the cover off the control panel. They’re made to be removed by hand, so get your fingernails in the slots at the top and jerk it toward you. It will drop down on a hidden hinge at the bottom. Understood?”

  The familiar Fleet speak curled around her brain, bringing a breath of normality with it. “Understood.”

  “Once you get the cover off, look at the bottom right corner. You’ll see a clear tab with circuitry showing through. It’s probably on a flat cable, but if not, then look for a cable that’s hanging loose. All you have to do is put that tab back where it belongs. The slot for it is in the same corner, on the right edge, facing left. Lhyn, you may only have seconds to do this. The moment you get that tab in, put the cover back on and hit the control. And then look.”

  “Understood.”

  She spent a few moments breathing, then began the slow and painful process of moving herself to the edge of the bed. When she tried to straighten, the pull on her abdominals as the muscles were forced to lengthen was excruciating. In the end, she could not stand erect but remained hunched over.

  At least her legs still worked. Though her broken ribs jarred with every step, she had been through worse. And Ekatya was beside her every step of the way.

  Pulling down the cover required the use of pectoral muscles that had been torn apart in the breaking of her upper ribs. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but she got it open. The tab was exactly as Ekatya had described, and it was a matter of two seconds to slot it in. She flipped the cover back up, then put her fists on it and leaned her body weight forward. It snapped shut without requiring any muscular effort.

  “Smart,” Ekatya said approvingly. “Let’s see where you are.”

  Lhyn tapped the control and gasped as the room was suddenly flooded with the red light of either sunrise or sunset. “Oh, my fucking stars,” she breathed. It was the last view she had expected.

  “I don’t recognize it. Where are you?”

  She pointed a shaking finger. “That’s my conference center. I’m in the same city.”

  “That clever slime worm.” Ekatya scowled. “He set a false trail. Sholokhov is looking for you all over the sector. Everywhere but here.”

  “What time is it?”

  She seemed to hear the real question. “That’s sunset.”

  Lhyn held on to this data point with fierce determination. It anchored a whole new reality. “The sun sets in the east on Qwonix. So I’m northwest of the conference center. And this floor is higher than the conference center roof.”

  ??
?An expensive hotel tower taller than the conference center and northwest of it. There can’t be too many buildings that fit that description. How far away? I can’t see clearly.”

  “Maybe four kilometers? Between here and there I can see one large city park and two small ones.” She rested her forehead against the window and looked down. “And there’s a shorter building right next to this one with a shuttlecraft landing pad on top. It’s a blue square with a red circle in the center.”

  Looking upward was more difficult without the ability to turn her neck. Instead, she shifted her body slightly, rolling on her forehead, and peered up as well as she could. “I think I’m on the top floor.”

  “Perfect. You did it. Now turn it back.”

  She shifted back and stared longingly at the view. It was like breathing air after nearly drowning. How could she trap herself in this windowless room again?

  “He hasn’t noticed yet, but you can’t take—”

  She hit the control and stifled a sob as the window turned opaque once more.

  “I’m sorry, tyrina,” Ekatya said softly. “But we have to keep you as safe as we can.”

  “I know. Why didn’t he come running in here?”

  “It’s sunset. And as far as he knows, you’re incapacitated. Maybe he’s out getting something to eat.”

  She looked back at the window, then hung her head and shuffled to the bed. Sliding on was misery, but she felt better when she was braced against the headboard again.

  “Lhyn…I have to go. Just for a few minutes.”

  Her head snapped up. “No!”

  “I have to tell Sholokhov where you are.”

  “No! Don’t leave me!” The idea of losing her, of being alone again in this nightmare, was more than she could bear. She wasn’t courageous at all; she was terrified. Her breathing spiraled out of control.

  “Lhyn, stop, stop, please! Dr. Wells!”

  Tears of agony rolled down her face, but she couldn’t change her breathing. It was an entity of its own, jerking her shattered ribs and sending molten lava through her chest in rapid, crashing waves. And it was only getting worse.