Against Gravity (28 page)

From the floor of the cell, he could see that there was one tiny barred window, which looked too small for him to even squeeze his head through, set high in what was presumably an exterior wall.
Some soldiers were talking, out of sight, further along the corridor, and two appeared a moment later. Like all the rest, they wore crucifix-adorned uniforms.

While one kept his rifle trained on Kendrick’s skull the other jailer pointed a wandlike device through the bars of the cell and Kendrick’s bonds suddenly fell loose. In a matter of
seconds he could pull free his aching wrists and feet.

The soldiers left him then and he groaned with relief as blood rushed back into his fingers. He crouched on the tiled floor, seeming to feel every one of the thousand bruises and aches that now
patterned his body.
Free at last
, he thought sourly.

Kendrick stared at the door of his cell and listened. But he heard nothing beyond the occasional whine of aircraft engines starting.

Once he was sure that the soldiers weren’t likely to reappear any time soon, he stepped forward and studied the lock on the door. He’d already noticed that it was electronic.

Kendrick shook his head – were these people idiots? They’d have been better off leaving him locked in the boot of the car. It was almost as if they
wanted
him to escape. And
he was more than happy to oblige them.

Kendrick knelt down next to the lock – a smooth, oblong steel box that did not require a keyhole – and fingered its cool surface, searching for its electron pulse with his eyes
closed.

Nothing came to him. His brow furrowed as he pressed both hands against its surface. Still nothing – the cell door remained resolutely locked. A chill rushing up his spine, Kendrick
hammered at the lock with the heel of his hand in sudden frustration, then rolled himself into a ball on the floor, cursing and gasping at the pain of it.

Augments or no augments, that had definitely
hurt
.

They had finally invented the Labrat-proof electronic lock.

A couple more hours passed, which Kendrick spent lying stretched out on a narrow folding bunk fixed to the wall by chains. Then Helen returned, accompanied by Hardenbrooke and
some soldiers. Kendrick sat bolt upright when he saw the medic.

This time, Helen too was dressed in combat gear, a crucifix stitched onto her tunic just over the heart. Hardenbrooke avoided Kendrick’s gaze, but she eyed him frankly.

“I don’t see why I need to get involved in this,” Hardenbrooke whined as they halted outside Kendrick’s cell.

“Because I say so,” Helen snapped. “Besides,” she said, studying Kendrick through the bars, “anything he knows about the other Augments, we can use. Isn’t
that right, Mr Gallmon?”

Inwardly Kendrick’s soul shrank, wondering what would happen to him when they realized he probably knew less about what was going on than they did.

When he didn’t answer after a moment Helen shrugged, producing some kind of gun which she pushed through the bars and fired. Kendrick felt a sharp pain in his arm and looked down to see a
tiny dart embedded in his skin.

The drug rapidly paralysed his muscles, leaving him awake and aware. He slid off the bunk and onto the floor, watching helplessly as they unlocked the cell door.

“What about the zero-point technology?” probed Helen.

“What?”

“The zero-point tech on board the
Archimedes
,” she repeated impatiently.

“I don’t know anything about it,” Kendrick answered truthfully.

“He genuinely doesn’t know about that,” he heard Hardenbrooke say.

There was a pause. “He doesn’t
know
about it?” Helen snapped. “Then what the fuck
does
he know?”

Hardenbrooke replied, sounding almost apologetic. “Look, I’m sure there’s a lot he knows which he’s holding back. That stuff you shot him up with, sometimes you need to
think about how you phrase your questions. Context.”

“Peter McCowan told me about all the rest,” Kendrick said. “He told me about the Bright, how they found a way to the end of time.”

Rustling noises, and he looked up from the chair he’d been dropped into, searching his captors’ faces. A soldier lurked in the shadows nearby.

“Who’s Peter McCowan?” Helen demanded.

“A friend of mine. He spoke to me while I was locked in the trunk of your car.”

Another brief silence. “Tell me more about your friend.”

“He died in the Maze.”

“
Fuck
.”

Helen covered her eyes with one hand, quietly repeating the word “Fuck” over and over, under her breath.

“Okay. Let’s start again,” she continued after a bit. “The Bright – what are they?”

“They live on the
Archimedes
. Draeger designed them to find God. I . . .” A wave of nausea surged through Kendrick. He heard himself groan.

Someone nearby was muttering under his breath, in a rush of words that sounded like a litany. It was the soldier, and he looked as though he was weeping. Helen turned to bark something at him
that Kendrick couldn’t make out. When she turned back to Kendrick, her eyes were shiny.

“And that’s what they call themselves – the Bright?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Now she turned to Hardenbrooke who was leaning against a wall, his arms folded, watching. Night had fallen and pale moonlight spilled through the high-up window of the cell.

“We should give him some more shots of another inhibitor,” Hardenbrooke muttered. “His augments will have dredged most of what we’ve already given him out of his
bloodstream. That’s how he’s managing to hold so much back.”

“Fine. Do whatever you need to,” Helen said impatiently. Hardenbrooke stood up and stepped forward. A moment later Kendrick felt a tiny sting in one arm, followed by a numbness
spreading through his thoughts.

“Okay, then,” Helen said brightly, sounding like a teacher instructing a class of pre-schoolers. “He obviously doesn’t know anything new about zero point. Okay . . . so
how long have you known about the
Archimedes
?”

“About the
Archimedes
?” Kendrick asked.

“Anything, Mr Gallmon.”

“All I know is, Buddy says those things that I’ve been dreaming about found God at the end of time. It meant something to Caroline, too – before you took her. The others think
they could live for ever, if only they could get there.”

Kendrick could see the incredulity written on Hardenbrooke’s features. Helen’s expression, by contrast, was fervent, almost ecstatic. She muttered something that sounded like a
prayer.

“This is insane, this is bullshit,” said Hardenbrooke. “What does this have to do with zero-point weapons?”

“Shut up,” Helen snapped. “This is important.”

“Oh Christ, sometimes I can’t believe you people really believe this shit.” Hardenbrooke looked ready to tear his hair out. “We’re not here to talk about religion.
We’re here to find a way to win.”

“If we win, it’s because God smiles on
us
, and not on you,” Helen said evenly, still staring down at Kendrick. “Hardenbrooke, I’ll ask you not to take the
Lord’s name in vain again.”

“Let’s be clear,” Hardenbrooke said carefully. “Zero-point tech is the purpose of this interrogation. Any more of this flagrant bullshit isn’t. So keep your
religious beliefs out of this, okay?”

Helen ignored him, leaning over Kendrick and peering into his eyes, as though she might find secrets lurking there. “Draeger thinks you’re special,” she muttered, just inches
from his face. “Maybe you’re not. Maybe he’s wrong, and we’re all barking up the wrong tree.”

She looked off into space for a while, saying nothing, before finally shaking her head and standing upright. “This is useless. Look, he’s no use to us if he doesn’t know
anything more than we do.”

“But Draeger thinks he’s important, you said.”

“So what? Draeger is an egomaniac. You know, you haven’t exactly earned your money yet – or don’t you understand that?”

Hardenbrooke blinked. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You told us that Draeger thought this idiot was essential to regaining access to the
Archimedes
. So far, he doesn’t come across as very fucking essential to me. That means
his friends can still take the Godhead
away
from us, regardless of whether we have him here or not. What are you going to do about that?”

Hardenbrooke’s face was pale. “You’re nuts, do you know that?” he said quietly. “Any military advantage—”

“I know what you want,” Kendrick interrupted, his thoughts rapidly becoming clearer.

They both swivelled to stare at him, as if he were a corpse suddenly returned to life.

“With zero-point energy, you could win a war against anyone. Somehow, you think I can get you on board where everyone else has failed, don’t you?”

Helen’s expression remained mask-like. “Can you?”

“I don’t know,” Kendrick replied. He listened, helpless, as the truth spilled out of his own mouth. “No more so than any of the rest. But whatever’s up there, it
hates
me
. It doesn’t want me there.”

Kendrick found that he couldn’t stop blinking. A dawning sense of horror began to awaken within him, as if he were emerging from a deep, restful sleep only to find everyone he had ever
cared about torn limb from limb and lying in front of him.

“It’s wearing off,” said Hardenbrooke. “But pumping any more into him isn’t going to work.”

Another soldier entered the cell, looking harassed. Helen glared at him. “This had better be good, whatever it is.”

“It looks like the enemy know we’re here. The perimeter defence just brought down a robot recon, but we’re almost certain it transmitted our location first. Command says
we’re to pull out early – launch ahead of schedule.”

Helen cast a worried glance in Kendrick’s direction.

Launch what?
he wondered.

The soldier left in a hurry.

“Well, haven’t
you
been a complete waste of time,” Helen muttered at Hardenbrooke. “All this trouble and it looks like your friend here can’t tell us a damn
thing after all.”

Hardenbrooke looked as though he was about to explode with rage, having undoubtedly promised that a gold mine of information would spill from Kendrick’s lips. He stepped quickly towards
Helen and grabbed her shoulder. She spun, staring at him unbelievingly.

Kendrick witnessed all this, including the way that Helen shook her head almost imperceptibly over Hardenbrooke’s shoulder at the guard, who had begun to step forward. The soldier stopped,
but lowered his rifle to hold it levelled at Hardenbrooke at waist level.

“There was an agreement.” Hardenbrooke’s face flushed red, which made his scars all the more ugly. “We need the rest of the information from him, about what Draeger is
planning—”

“Shut up. You’ve been worse than fucking useless.”

“No, I’ve had enough of this demented nonsense. I—”

Kendrick watched Helen’s hand slip down to the holster clipped to her belt. The motion of her delicate fingers on the gun was smooth and practised, and he found himself admiring the way
the pistol slid gracefully into her grip. Raising it only slightly, she shot Hardenbrooke in the stomach at point-blank range.

He went down like the proverbial sack of potatoes. Helen stared down dismissively at his crumpled body. Then her finger tightened again on the trigger, and a few more shots hammered into
Hardenbrooke’s supine form.

“Helen,” Kendrick croaked, his throat still immobile-feeling.

Her breathing slowed. She closed her eyes for a moment before looking at him.

“My name’s Leigh,” she said.

“Leigh? That’s good.” A bitter chuckle fell from Kendrick’s lips. He felt as though he’d been raped. “Because you’re a lousy lay, Leigh,” he told
her. “Even if you do fuck for Jesus.”

He wondered if she would shoot him too now, but there was still enough of the drug remaining in his system for him to find it surprisingly difficult to care. Instead, somewhat to his surprise,
Leigh/Helen stepped forward and backhanded him across the face – so hard that at first he thought she’d dislocated his jaw.

It came to Kendrick, even through the haze of pain, that he was only still alive because she hadn’t entirely convinced herself that he would be of no further use to them. He watched as
they exited the cell, securely locking it behind them, the guard dragging Hardenbrooke’s corpse along with them.

Time passed.

Kendrick was unable to sleep, so he pulled himself off his narrow bunk and slumped with his back against the cell bars, watching the stars wheel beyond his one tiny window. He thought about what
the soldier had said earlier:
The enemy knows we’re here
.

The question was – who was the enemy?

If he was still somewhere in America, then he had to be in one of the breakaway republics that had favoured Los Muertos. Otherwise, how would they have the run of this entire military base?
Perhaps, then, a neighbouring republic knew Los Muertos were here, and were launching an attack?

Eventually Kendrick fell asleep despite the stink of Hardenbrooke’s blood coagulating in one corner of the cell. He did not dream.

He woke some hours later to find a databand lying on the cell floor in front of him. It was the kind that was found in shops that sold cheap plastic jewellery. Moonlight streaked the floor where
it lay.

Kendrick picked it up, studying its pale blue plastic shell. The tiny fingernail-sized screen was currently grey and inactive. He wondered where on Earth it could have come from.

Then a pale blue light appeared on the screen, and he almost dropped it in his surprise. He glanced through the cell bars to the glow of light visible down the other end of the corridor, where
someone was on night duty. Surely nobody could have got past the guards there and deposited the bracelet without even waking him?

“It’s me, Peter McCowan.” The voice emerged tinny and distorted from the bracelet’s tiny speaker.

“Peter?” Kendrick lifted the bracelet closer to his mouth, keeping his voice to a low whisper.

“It’s a lot easier to get in touch with you this way, don’t need so many visuals. But in the meantime you need to get out of that cell.”