Читать книгу Into the No-Zone - Eugene Lambert - Страница 14

After a forever of stumbling along blindly and being pushed, I’m stopped, turned and shoved backwards. Hinges squeal, metal clangs and bolts rasp home. Finally, the hood is pulled off. I squint around at a small rock-walled chamber. Table. Bench. Covered shit-pit in the corner. Closed metal door. Loads of guards.

‘Why the bag over my head? What’s going on?’

I’m wasting my breath. None of the guards will answer me; they just watch me out of their bored, tough-guy eyes like I’m some not-very-interesting bug. I give up asking, lie down on the bench and glower up at the rock ceiling, sick to my stomach.

Does this mean Colm is dead?

Time crawls by, slow and ugly. Wrath knows how long it is before the oil-starved hinges squeal again. The chamber door opens outwards and . . . Rona and Colm are shepherded inside.

Seeing me, Rona’s hand flies to her mouth.

I jump up from the bench. Rona dashes across the room, throws her arms round me and hugs me so tight I can hardly breathe.

‘Kyle! Oh, thanks be to goodness, we were so worried.’

I hug her back, while over her shoulder I gawp at Colm. He looks shaken, his face pulled tight. His left arm is in a sling.

‘You’re alive,’ I blurt out.

He grimaces. ‘Yeah. I think so.’

Rona lets go of me, dabs at her red-looking eyes and takes a quick healer look at me. ‘You’re not hurt, are you?’

‘I’m fine,’ I tell her. ‘I – uh – wasn’t there to get shot at.’

One of the guards who brought them in steps up, clears his throat and lays a gloved hand on her shoulder.

‘You’ve seen the boy needs no healing,’ he says. ‘Let’s go.’

I glare at him, but Rona shoots me a quick warning look. She reaches out and pulls Colm and me together. ‘Listen to me,’ she says, frowning, ‘you’re safe here at least. Do what they say and don’t make any trouble. They won’t let me stay with you, but I won’t be far away. Everything will be all right. Okay?’

We each get another quick hug before she’s taken away.

After the door slams shut behind her, the guards left inside shove us towards the bench along the wall. A minute ago I’d have shoved back to spite them. Now I can’t be bothered. I’m more interested in hearing what my wounded brother has to say.

‘What happened?’ I ask him. ‘A guy said three masked shooters burst into our tent and then opened up with blasters.’

Colm nurses his bandaged arm and nods.

‘I was half asleep. The tent flap lifts and some guys barge inside. Next thing I know they’re blasting the hell out of your bunk.’

I stare at him, appalled. ‘So what did you do?’

‘They shot up my bunk next.’ A painful smile tugs at my brother’s lips. ‘Only I’d got such a fright when the shooting started I’d already fallen off it. It was lights-out and dark inside. With all the blasting, maybe the shooters dazzled themselves. My pulse rifle was still up on my bunk, so I cleared off as fast as I could. They came after me, but by then our guys were shooting back.’

I can’t help glancing at his bandaged arm. Rona’s handiwork.

‘I got lucky,’ he says. ‘Four of our mates were killed in the crossfire, more injured. It was a slaughterhouse.’

‘Who did this?’ I splutter. ‘And why? I don’t understand.’

‘Me neither. But . . .’ He takes a deep breath, sighs it out. ‘My first thought was that Slayers had somehow tracked us down and sent in a suicide squad to take us out. For revenge, or to teach us a lesson, like even out here in the Deeps nobody’s safe. Only before I was taken away, I got a good look at the shooters. They were Gemini fighters. I’ve seen them around. And before you ask, it wasn’t Stauffer or any of his thug mates.’

Colm’s words stomp about in my head, but make no sense.

‘You’re saying our own guys tried to kill us?’

He nods. ‘And it was definitely us they were after. They came straight to our bunks. It was a hit. We were the target.’

‘Why?’ I say, dry-mouthed.

‘I don’t know. Lucky you weren’t in your bunk, huh?’

‘Too right.’ I shiver. And now I finally remember that I’ve got my own big news to share. I tell Colm about how I saw the windjammer land and the black-clad passenger it unloaded.

‘Ballard brought a Slayer here ?’ he says, rocking back and chewing his lip. ‘Guess the peace deal must be on then.’

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’

‘So when did the jammer land?’

I think back. ‘Not long before the shooting started.’

Colm nods and pulls what I call his serious-thinking face.

Which sets me thinking too. ‘Coincidence?’

‘Could be,’ he says, but really slow, like he doesn’t believe it.

I glance at our guards. They’re still all watching us, unblinking, unmoving, as if carved out of stone. I’d figured we’d been stuck in here for our protection. Now I’m starting to doubt. These guys are doing a great job of making me feel more like a prisoner.

‘Wonder how long they’ll keep us in here?’ I say to Colm.

He sits on the bench, swings his feet up and stretches out. ‘Who knows? We should get some rest.’

‘Hey, what about me?’

But my brother’s eyes are closed already, and he looks so destroyed I haven’t the heart to make him shift.

I settle for the dirt floor. It’s as uncomfortable as it looks.

Without windows in here it’s only a guess, but based on how stiff I feel after hours of squirming around on hard-packed dirt, I reckon it’s early morning when they come for us.

We each get a beaker of water and a biscuit to munch as we’re marched along one rock-hewn corridor after another, minded by a dozen or so heavily armed guards. Finally, we’re shoved into a room where Ballard is waiting, sitting behind a massive round table. His wire-framed glasses reflect the glowtubes so I can’t see his eyes, but his lined face is one big frown. I’d hoped Rona would be there too. She isn’t. The only friendly face belongs to Scallon, the senior healer woman who pulled that bolt out of me back in Bastion. She gets up, greets us and shows us to a couple of spare seats.

‘Why are we here?’ I whisper.

And wish I hadn’t as her face falls.

‘You’ll see,’ she says, and returns to her seat.

I glance around the room. Apart from Scallon and Ballard and some watchful guards, there are two other people here, both seated at the table. Like Ballard, they wear the long grey cloaks of Gemini Council members. The tall black woman is Mendela, Defence Commander of this Deeps outpost. The irritable-looking plump man with the savagely pockmarked face I‘ve never seen before.

‘So there they are,’ fat guy says.

He inspects Colm and me, a look on his face like we’re pieces of fruit to choose between and both of us seem rotten.

‘Hard to believe,’ Mendela says, ‘it all hangs on these two boys.’

I swap glances with Colm. He looks worried too.

Ballard stands up, waving away a guard who leaps forward to try and help him. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. He looks tired, like he didn’t get much sleep last night either.

‘Kyle, Colm,’ he says, blinking at us. ‘You must be wondering –’

Fat guy slams his hand on the table and interrupts angrily, chins wobbling. ‘For Wrath’s sake, Ballard, you’re wasting time we haven’t got. We have important things to discuss.’

Ballard stiffens. ‘We do, Councillor Schroeder. But first I think we owe these boys an explanation.’

Schroeder glares at us and snorts, sending spit flying.

Well, I can do angry too. I jump up. ‘What the hell’s going on?’

I expect to be shouted at, but Commander Mendela smiles. Not Ballard though. He looks like he’s in pain.

‘Sit down, son,’ Mendela says. ‘We like defiant, but we’ve got something to tell you and you would do well to listen.’

I swallow and sit down again, feeling more than a bit stupid.

Ballard clears his throat. ‘As Councillor Schroeder says, the Council has much to discuss, so I’ll be brief.’ He puts his glasses back on and his gaze settles on me. My head pounds and blood hisses in my ears like static. ‘You boys will, I’m sure, have heard the rumours of a peace treaty between us and the Slayers.’

I nod, not trusting my voice. So does Colm.

‘Well, the rumours are true,’ Ballard continues. ‘If Gemini ceases fighting and we withdraw our forces to the Barrenlands, in return the Saviour will grant us a sanctuary out there.’

‘So tempting.’ Mendela’s voice is thick with sarcasm.

Ballard sighs. ‘As you might expect, the peace offer comes with many strings attached. Ident children must still be handed over and held in camps. Instead of Peace Fairs, as soon as nubloods are identified they will be returned to us in our Barrenlands paradise.’ He sighs deeply. ‘However, the strongest of them will first be required to do two years’ service down darkblende mines. After completing this, they too will be returned.’

‘If they survive the two years,’ Scallon says.

‘Be quiet!’ Schroeder snaps.

I shake my head, dazed, struggling to take this in. Two years down a darkblende mine is crap, but sanctuary sounds good.

‘There is one other condition,’ Ballard says.

Mendela pulls a grim face, as if she’s chewing a mouthful of something sour. As for Scallon, she won’t look me in the eye.

Colm and I say it as one. ‘What other condition?’

Ballard winces, his watery eyes like grey pools in cracked rock. ‘The final condition is that we hand you both over.’ He pauses, maybe to let this sink in. ‘Unless we agree to all these conditions before the next doom moon, the peace offer will be withdrawn. The Saviour will order the mobilisation of a conscript army to fight alongside his Slayers. He says they won’t rest until every nublood on Wrath is hunted down. Extermination, pure and simple.’

‘The sting in the tail,’ Mendela says, and sighs.

My head pounds like someone’s taken a club to it. So this is how it all ends, I think dismally. I should have fraggin’ known.

‘And you’d do that? You’d hand us over?’ I croak.

Ballard just looks at me, stony-faced.

‘So that’s why those fighters tried to kill us,’ Colm says.

‘Huh?’ I glance at him. He’s staring at Ballard.

Ballard nods. ‘Details of the peace offer must somehow have reached here before we did. The Saviour wants you alive. The attempt on your lives was an act of sabotage by Gemini hardliners who wish to fight on regardless. With you dead, the peace deal is dead too. They will have known that my first act upon my return would be to place you in protective custody.’

I’m not sure I get all this, not fully, but one thing I do get: Colm and me, we’re screwed. I lick my lips. ‘What happens now?’

He pulls at his beard. ‘That, Kyle, is for the Council to decide.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Schroeder wobbles to his feet. ‘Let’s get this farce over with. Bring in the damn Slayer.’ He clicks his fingers at the guards by another door at the far side of the chamber.

They scramble to unbolt it and swing it open.

In walks a woman dressed head to foot in Slayer matt-black.

I gasp. Beside me, Colm lets out a strangled-sounding moan. Because it’s not every day you see a ghost. The last time I saw this woman was during the Facility raid, when Murdo Dern emptied his pulse rifle into her at point-blank range, almost cutting her in half. Yet here the High Slayer stands in her fancy black-leather uniform trimmed with fur, with her raven-dark hair and the cruel lines in her face no amount of powder can hide. A smile twists her full lips, and I see her obvious delight at our shock and confusion. Morana, High Slayer of the Barrenlands.

‘No fraggin’ way!’ I howl, gulping air, sending my chair flying as I lurch to my feet again. ‘You’re dead. I saw you killed!’

‘Only, as you see, I’m very much alive,’ she says, sneering.

Ballard grits his teeth. ‘You’re here for a reason, Slayer, so get on with it. Take your look. Tell us if you’re satisfied.’

She darts him a mocking glance. ‘Who are you again?’

‘You’ve one minute, and no longer.’

They swap glares, until she shrugs and turns from him to Colm and me. She steps around the table, coming closer.

‘Don’t be shy,’ she says. ‘Show me your handsome faces.’

I back up, but hit rock wall.

She glances at my brother and spots his heavily bandaged arm.

‘This merchandise has been damaged.’

‘A scratch,’ Schroeder says quickly. ‘Nothing more.’

Morana nods and her gaze slides across to me. ‘So alike, yet I have the feeling you’re the twist, Kyle. Am I right?’

I give myself a bit of a shake, conscious Ballard’s watching me.

‘I’m nublood,’ I tell her. ‘We call ourselves nublood.’

She shows me a mouthful of too-perfect teeth and laughs. ‘Oh, do you now? How dull. I think “twist” has far more of a ring to it. Now come closer, Kyle, and let me see you.’

‘Drop dead.’ I stay where I am.

Mistake. She looks at Schroeder. He curses and signals. Two guards grab me and shove me forward. I struggle. Nothing doing. They’re both nubloods and loads bigger than me.

‘That’s better.’ Morana peels off a glove. Her body armour creaks as she reaches out and turns my face this way and that, studying me closely. Then she strokes my cheek, her fingers cold and lingering, exactly as she did that day back in the Barrenlands when she’d captured Sky and me.

‘So tell me, Kyle, how does it feel to play such an important role in the future of your pitiful species?’

Her breath warms my face. I gauge the distance to her head to see if it’s worth trying for a headbutt. But she’s too far away and the guys holding on to me are too strong.

‘That’s enough,’ Ballard calls out. ‘Leave the boy alone.’

Morana gives me one last icy glare, then lets go. Pulling her glove back on, she turns and stalks back towards the open doorway and the waiting Gemini guards.

‘Very well,’ she announces, as cool as you like. ‘I will report back to the Saviour that you do indeed have his beloved sons.’

Ballard says nothing, just looks grim as hell.

Schroeder’s a different story – I reckon the man seems pleased.

Mendela hauls herself to her feet. ‘Is she done here?’

‘She is,’ Ballard says. ‘Take her away.’

‘I’ll see to it personally that our guest,’ Mendela wrinkles her nose at Morana, ‘is returned to the rendezvous point, with all the necessary safeguards so she can’t find her way back uninvited.’

Ballard nods, and Morana is escorted away.

There’s a long, ugly silence.

And I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding.

Our guards bring two new benches, one for Colm, another to replace the one I took out my rage and despair on.

‘Smash these,’ a guard warns, ‘and you don’t get more. Okay?’

I mutter at her that I won’t.

‘This is bullshit,’ I say to Colm. ‘Can you believe it?’

My brother’s not said a word since we were dragged back here to our cell, just stared into space and shaken his head a lot. So I’m glad when he finally looks at me.

‘It’s a trap,’ he says. ‘A clever one too.’

But I’ve also done some thinking since I quit smashing stuff.

‘I don’t see it. The Slayers must be dreaming if they think we’ll chuck our guns away and shuffle off to hold hands out in the Barrenlands. Once we’re there, they’d have us trapped. No way will the Council go for it. They’d have to be crazy.’

Colm takes a deep breath and hisses it out.

‘What?’ I say, irritated.

He clutches at his hurt arm and winces. ‘Kyle, this isn’t about peace or sanctuary in the Barrenlands. It’s about divide and conquer, setting brother against brother.’

I grind my teeth. ‘Just for once, can you speak plainly?’

‘Okay, okay. Look, I grew up a Slayer, so I know how they think. This peace offer’s fake, I’m sure of it. The Saviour has no intention of letting Gemini have a sanctuary in the Barrenlands or anywhere else. He just dangles the thought. It’s bait on a hook.’

‘And when we bite he’s got us trapped?’

‘It’s simpler than that, more cunning. They’ll make sure every Gemini fighter knows what’s supposedly on offer. Some will clutch at the straw. Who can blame them for wanting an end to a lifetime of fear and fighting? Others will want to fight on though, sod the cost. Before you know it, Gemini will split into pro-treaty and anti-treaty factions. We’ll start fighting among ourselves.’

I stare at him, gob open, hairs standing up on the back of my neck. ‘Surely the Council will see that too?’

He shrugs. ‘Maybe. But can they stop it? It’s happening already, here in the Deeps. That’s why my arm’s in this bloody sling. And why we’re stuck in this hole being guarded.’

I twitch. ‘So the hardliners can’t have another pop at us?’

Colm nods and tries for a smile. ‘You’re not as thick as you look.’

We sit there silent for a while.

‘Don’t know about you,’ I say eventually, ‘but I could’ve died when that door opened and Morana walked in.’

‘Seriously,’ Colm says, ‘I could’ve done without that.’

I hesitate, but it has to be said. ‘Murdo killed her. I saw it.’

‘You had just been shot. Maybe you –’

‘Maybe nothing! Ask him if you don’t believe me.’

‘I do believe you. But we’ve got more to worry about than a High Slayer coming back to life. Maybe her body armour saved her. Who knows? What matters is Gemini risked bringing her to the Deeps so she could identify us. What’s that tell you?’

‘Ballard’s not as smart as we thought?’

Colm glances at our guards and they seem not to be listening. ‘Ballard’s no fool. Everything he does, he does for a reason. I think it tells us that the Council will go for the peace deal. You heard the woman – she’s here to check the merchandise, to make sure we’re still alive and kicking, ready to be handed over.’

‘You think too much,’ I croak.

‘Sometimes I wish I didn’t,’ he says, and grimaces.

Another long silence. In my head I play back Colm’s words, trying to find holes in his thinking that hope might fit into.

Nothing doing. There are no holes.

‘Okay, fine,’ I whisper, straightening kinks out of my neck. ‘I get it. We’re screwed if we stay here. Either we’ll be handed back to the Slayers, or we’ll be lynched by hardliners.’

Colm frowns. ‘If we stay here? You say it like we’ve a choice.’

‘We’ll get word to Rona and Sky. They’ll bust us out.’

He says nothing, but his face is my face – I see the doubt.

‘You got a better idea?’ I ask.

‘I’m working on it,’ he tells me. And then, ‘No.’