“Not now, I couldn’t,” Seth said, and lifted a limp arm to show how weak he was.
“There are four guards at the end of the hallway, and you won’t get past them, just so you know,” Tobin said, then fitted his key into the lock and entered Seth’s cell. He handed over Seth’s pills, which Seth swallowed dry. When Tobin administered the shot, Seth winced.
“Wimp,” Waverly said.
“Not everyone can have the superhuman strength of a hundred-and-ten-pound girl,” Seth said.
“You two are real cards.” Tobin yawned like a monster, showing all his teeth.
“Go get some sleep,” Waverly told him.
Tobin nodded and shuffled out of Seth’s cell. He started down the hallway but paused and turned around. “And just for the record, I think Kieran sending you down here after you caught the terrorist is rubbish,” Tobin said, then tilted his blockish head slightly. “Even though, Seth, you were kind of a bastard when you were in charge.”
“Thank you for your support,” Seth said blandly.
“You were,” Tobin insisted, sticking out his chin.
“Yeah, I know!” Seth said irritably.
“Well if you can admit it to me, maybe you can admit it to everyone, throw your support behind Kieran publicly, and this whole thing can end.”
“You think that would do it?” Seth said skeptically.
“Worth a try,” Tobin said with a shrug before he headed off down the hallway, yawning again. He disappeared into the shadowy hallway between the cells faster than Waverly liked. This place was all cold metal, all unyielding edges, nothing soft or warm.
“Maybe he’s right,” Waverly said. “Maybe Kieran just needs to know you won’t stage another mutiny.”
“Oh yeah? And how are you going to redeem yourself?”
“Maybe I should apologize, too,” she said wistfully.
“So you think you were wrong to help me?”
She turned to look at him and saw a wounded expression in his poor, reddened eyes. “No, Seth.”
Saying his name aloud shifted something inside of her. She thought she saw the change happen in him, too. His eyes softened, his cheeks sank inward, and he bit his bottom lip. If she’d been looking at anyone but Seth Ardvale, she’d think that was the face of someone who was about to cry.
They looked at each other across the hallway until the lights flickered back off. Now that she’d had her steroid shot, her fear of dying in her sleep had subsided, and she realized she was drowsy. Waverly felt her eyelids droop, and she surrendered.
When she awoke, she was looking at the olive-shaped face of Alia Khadivi, watching through the bars of her cell with warm eyes. “Are you well?”
“I’m sore,” Waverly croaked. Her throat felt scraped bloody, and it was dry from sleep. “I need water.”
“Guard!” Alia shouted down the hallway, and soon Hiro appeared, his features immobile. When Alia pointed at the lock on Waverly’s cell, he obediently fitted the key into it and opened the door.
Alia went to the sink that stood against the wall of Waverly’s cell to fill a plastic tumbler with water, then knelt by Waverly, very gently lifted her head, and held the rim of the cup to her lips. The water was cold, tasted clean and sweet, and Waverly gulped it down.
“More,” she croaked.
Alia patiently brought Waverly several tumblers full of water until her thirst was sated. Then she sat on the edge of Waverly’s cot and took her hand. Her dry palm felt sisterly, comforting on Waverly’s cold hand.
“I’ve gotten a court order from the Justice of the Peace to release you. Doctor Tobin is waiting outside with a wheelchair to take you back to the infirmary.”
Waverly smiled at her friend. “How did you do that?”
“Very simple.” Her ruby lips turned upward at the corners. “Seth was never charged with a crime, so at the time you helped him, he could not technically be considered a fugitive.”
“So Seth can get out, too?”
She heard Seth chuckle in the other cell, but she could not see him because Alia was in the way.
“No, because Kieran finally brought formal charges against him.”
“And they are?” Seth rasped. He was leaning up on one elbow, but from the way his head weaved, Waverly could see this cost him a great deal of effort.
Alia hesitated, but she turned to Seth, and now Waverly could get a glimpse of him. He still looked gray. The whites of his eyes had congealed into pink puddings, and he licked at his dry lips. He’d gotten worse.
“Kieran is accusing you of attempted murder,” Alia said to him.
“Sounds about right,” Seth said before collapsing back onto his cot.
“Seth needs medical attention,” Waverly said.
“I can see that. I will appeal to the Justice that Seth be released to the custody of the infirmary.” She turned again to Seth. “How long can you last?”
“I need water,” Seth said. He tried to get up from his cot, but he was too weak and fell back again.
“Hiro! I need to see Seth Ardvale for a moment,” Alia said, and Hiro came and let her out of Waverly’s cell, then led her to Seth’s and unlocked the door. He stood over Seth, one hand on his nightstick and the other on a can of mace that was hooked to his belt, but he needn’t have been so vigilant. When Alia held a cup of water to Seth’s lips, he was barely strong enough to lift his head off his pillow to drink.
Suddenly an angry voice echoed down the hallway. “It’s pointless to hold me!”
“He’s awake,” Waverly said, chilled.
“He is a very frightening man.” Alia shuddered. “The way he looked at me when I walked past him. He recognized me from the New Horizon, I think.”
“Do you remember him?”
“No.” Alia shook her head.
“When can we question him?”
Alia’s expression clouded. “Kieran wants exclusive access to him.”
“He’s invoking Captain’s privilege to interview the terrorist?”
“And he’s shutting the Central Council out.”
“No,” Waverly said. Revived by the water, which seemed to loosen the blood in her veins, she found she could sit up, though she was very dizzy. “The Central Council should be there.”
“We’ll have to get past his guards,” Alia said with a glance at Hiro, whose eyes shifted to look at the wall, pretending to be deaf.
“We’ll get our own guards,” Waverly said.
“Do you intend to start a war with Kieran Alden?” Alia asked, one charcoal eyebrow raised.
“He’s the one who started it.”
Waverly heard footsteps in the hallway, and Tobin Ames appeared with a wheelchair. “Ready for your ride?”
“Look at Seth first,” Waverly said.
Tobin took in Seth’s poor color and labored breathing and shook his head. “He should have been under observation.”
“How’s Philip?” Seth asked in a throaty whisper.
“Alive,” Tobin said grimly. “If I knew how to run an electroencephalograph I’d tell you how his brain is, but I don’t. So we wait.” He lifted his eyes to Hiro, who stood staring at the wall. “Let me in so I can see my patient.”
Doctor Tobin, indeed, Waverly thought. He’d taken to the role, if not with ease, then with a grim determination to learn fast and execute well.
Tobin shined a light in Seth’s eyes and down his throat, then took a syringe from his pocket. “I thought you might need some more of this.”
Seth accepted the shot with complete apathy, his body flat on his cot, his only movement his chest as he breathed in and out.
“Seth, I’m coming back down and I’m going to set you up with an IV,” Tobin said. “You need fluids and glucose to keep your strength up, okay?”
“You’re the doctor.”
“I wish I were.” Tobin looked at Hiro, who opened Seth’s cell door for him, locked it, and finally came into Waverly’s cell. Tobin helped Waverly sit up and then, with a hand in eac
h of her armpits, assisted her into the wheelchair.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” Waverly said to Seth as Tobin wheeled her away.
“Okay,” Seth said, but she could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe she had the power.
Waverly leaned to her left, clinging to the arm of the wheelchair as Tobin slowly wheeled her toward her almost-murderer’s cell. Her breath came in gasps, and she felt beads of sweat mingle with the tiny hairs at her hairline. She could smell her own fear rising like a mist around her.
Sit up straight. Don’t let him see you like this. Waverly straightened and crammed her hands under her thighs, and when she came even with his cell, she made herself look inside.
He sat rigid, his wrists in manacles, his fists like stones on his knees. He was hunched, his head nestled between massive shoulders, and he stared out of his cell from the cave of his heavy brow ridge. As he breathed, his lips puffed out, then sucked inward like a bizarre bellows, and his cheeks quivered with fury when he recognized her. His eyes were black, and they followed her progress past his cell with a steady, fierce hatred. He looked like a man who had never known civilization.
“Stop,” she said to Tobin, her fear replaced by anger. “Turn me toward him.”
Tobin did as she asked without a word.
“I’m going to make you terrified,” she said to the terrorist’s meaty face. Her voice was still reedy, but her tone was murderous. He seemed to be looking past her, at the empty air behind her head. “I’m going to make you hurt so bad that you’ll tell me anything to make it stop. And I’ll enjoy it.”
For half a second or less his eyes flickered to hers, and then his gaze was nonspecific again. But she knew she’d gotten to him. She’d given him something to think about so that when she came back here, he wouldn’t be so brave.
TALK
Kieran sat on the metal folding chair across from the terrorist, ignoring the last remnant of his headache, which had faded to a nagging soreness since he left the infirmary. The man breathed noisily through hairy nostrils, and he kept his small eyes on Kieran’s chest, refusing to speak. The sink against the rear wall of his cell had a leak and made a dripping noise that nagged at Kieran’s ear.
“What is your mission?” Kieran asked the man again, but he was met only with numb silence.
Kieran knew from his own captivity that after a long while of being alone, you were willing to talk to anyone, even someone you hated. Maybe he hadn’t isolated this man long enough to let the solitude work on him, but he couldn’t afford any more time. There might be booby traps laid in the ship. He needed a way into this man’s mind, and fast.
“Max Brent,” Kieran said, and paused to let the name rest between them. “That was the name of the boy you poisoned. He was fourteen years old. You like killing kids?”
The piggish eyes flickered over Kieran’s face.
“And Philip Grieg. He was an orphan who carried his teddy bear everywhere he went. You knocked his head so hard that his brain hemorrhaged. He’ll never be the same. You feel good about that?”
This seemed to move the man. His eyes softened a little and he said sadly, “I didn’t know he was so little until he was on the floor.”
He’d spoken! Kieran tried to hide his excitement and responded with, “And you tried to strangle to death two of our crew members, both fifteen years old.”
His eyes darkened at this. “That bitch deserved it.”
“Oh really?” Kieran said, forcing his voice to stay cool. “And why is that?”
“She killed my … friend. Murdered him in cold blood.”
“I know Waverly, and she wouldn’t have done that unless she thought he was going to kill her.”
“Shelby wasn’t a bad man.”
“So you think Waverly should have let Anne Mather do anything she wanted to her and not try to get away?”
“After the way your crew sterilized our women,” the man said, “your girls owed us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” the man shot at Kieran with contempt. “You destroyed our women.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“You sent us a bad formula for the drug therapy. You assured us it had been tested and it was safe.”
“Did Anne Mather tell you to say that?”
“She doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“Sure she does. Otherwise why would you have been in the observatory at all, if not to communicate with her?”
“I like to look at stars,” the man said flatly.
“You say our crew sent you a bad formula? You didn’t test it yourselves before you used it? Seems pretty stupid to me.”
“We trusted you!” the man screamed with deafening violence. He jerked off the cot where he was sitting, but the chains around his hands held him back. He glared at Kieran as though intending to kill him.
With half a turn of his head, Kieran made sure that Hiro was still standing behind him, ready with a baton. He let out a quiet, slow breath, calming himself.
“Even if what you say is true, it doesn’t give you the right to kill two young boys.”
The terrorist’s eyes fastened on Kieran’s, and he closed his fleshy lips as if resolving to say nothing more.
Kieran stood and motioned to Hiro to unlock the cell door. Let the terrorist stew for a while.
Harvey and two other guards stood in the hallway outside the entrance to the brig, armed with mace and batons.
“No one sees him or talks to him, understand?” Kieran barked at them.
“Sure thing,” Harvey said to Kieran, but he didn’t look him in the eye for long. He was on the Central Council, and Kieran guessed that already his loyalties were being tested. He thought of moving Harvey to a less-crucial duty, but that might alienate the boy further.
Back in his office, Kieran opened the bottom drawer of his desk. The data-dot with Mather’s files was still where he’d left it. He’d thought she would contact him again, try to cajole him into watching the vid files, give him a chance to work on her, but he’d heard nothing from her.
He logged on to the radar system in Central Command and checked the position of the New Horizon. They were about 8.75 million miles ahead. He’d managed to close the gap by a quarter million miles, but at this rate it would be at least a year before he could catch up to them. And then what? If they ever did catch up, his crew would be so weakened from severe edema, muscle strain, and worn-down joints that they’d be useless in a fight. His whole body hurt him, and he could see in the faces of his crew that they hurt just as much.
He’d thought through dozens of ideas for how to attack the other vessel without killing the parents on board in the process. He’d only be able to use the older kids in an offensive—that would be about forty, maybe fifty at the most. They’d have to board the ship and get the parents out by force, but Mather had all the advantages. He’d never be able to sneak up on her; she could monitor the Empyrean’s position easily. The battlefield would be her own ship, which she could prepare any way she liked. And worst of all, he and the attack force would have no idea where to look for the parents. The more he thought about it, the more he could see that overt warfare would never work.
Though he had butterflies in his stomach at the thought of what he meant to do, he keyed into the long-range com system and hailed the New Horizon. A woman’s sallow face flicked onto the screen, and Kieran said, “I want to speak to Anne Mather.”
“I’ve been instructed to inquire whether you’ve seen the video files that she sent to you?”
“I haven’t had the time. We’ve been dealing with a terrorist on board our ship.”
“I’ve been instructed to tell you the Pastor is unavailable.”
“I just want to ask her a question.”
“Until you’ve watched…” The woman lifted her hand to an earpiece and looked again at Kieran with colorless eyes. “One moment, please.”
A
bruptly, the screen changed to Mather’s plump pink cheeks. “Hello, Kieran.”
“We’ve captured your man.”
“What man?” she said, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“The Neanderthal you sent to sabotage our ship? He’s in our brig.”
“Are you saying there’s a member of my crew on board the Empyrean?” she asked, blinking her eyes with surprise.
He watched her, looking for signs of deception. Her gaze was steady and her brow wrinkled, as though she were displeased to learn one of her crew was AWOL. Either she really didn’t know about the terrorist or she was a good liar.
“He won’t give us his name, but he’s a big guy, heavy features, receding hairline.…”
“Jake,” Mather said under her breath. “Jacob Pauley has been missing from his duties for quite some time. I thought he was depressed and keeping to his quarters.”
This was clearly a lie. The New Horizon was just as large and complicated a ship as the Empyrean. Every crew member had vital duties to perform and would be severely admonished if those duties were neglected. No. She must have sent him here, or at least she’d known he was here for a long time.
“I assume you’ve watched those videos,” she said.
“No, and I don’t plan on watching them, if you want to know.”
Her eyebrows flicked upward at this. “I thought you wanted your families back.”
“How do we even know they’re still alive? You’ve given us no proof.”
Mather nodded, eyes drifting away from the com screen. “Yes, I suppose that’s right. You’d want proof, wouldn’t you?” She leaned forward and pressed her fingertips together to make five spikes. “When you’ve watched the video, I’ll give you a partial list of survivor names. As we make progress in our negotiations, you’ll get more names.”
“I’m not going to let you manipulate—”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said with a smug smile, and her screen flickered out.
She was hateful, but at least she wasn’t pretending to be his friend. Kieran stared reluctantly at the data-dot, afraid of what he was going to find there. He almost shut it back in the desk drawer, but he’d just seen some graffiti outside the central bunker calling Seth Ardvale and Waverly Marshall heroes for capturing the terrorist. Sarek had captured a video image of the artist, who had draped a blanket over him-or herself. It was impossible to even see if it was a boy or a girl. “Do we put our heroes in the brig?” was scrawled in large blue letters across the wall. Kieran’s political position was shaky at best.