Skyfall (32 page)

The Bean was asleep, finally. It had taken almost two hours, and Kes was about ready to throw him off a balcony somewhere, but finally he'd nodded off. Now she stood over his bed, watching as he sucked on three fingers crammed into his mouth.

‘You're much cuter this way, you know that?'

She whispered so there'd be no chance of him waking. If that happened, she'd never get him off again.

Kes sighed. ‘I don't know what's more tragic – that my only friend nowadays is a one-year-old or that the best part of my day is when he goes to sleep.'

Being locked out of the mags had at least freed up time for her mum to get back to work, and with the double productivity allocation coming in there was a chance they might be able to get a bit up the waiting list. Reaching down, she adjusted the sheet covering her little brother then backed out of the room. With a bit of luck, he'd sleep for a couple of hours, giving her an afternoon of peace and quiet.

The com chimed. She held her breath, listening for a wail from the room behind her, but luckily the Bean didn't stir. Quickly she crossed to the terminal.

‘Kes!'

‘Lari.' Even though the sight of him sent a tingle of nerves through her, she kept her voice carefully neutral. He'd tried calling a couple of times after the thing with the pacifier, but she'd always refused to answer and in the end he gave up.

‘How are you?'

‘Still trapped here. Still looking after Savi.'

‘Yeah. About that, listen … Can I come over and see you?'

‘Aren't you still locked out of the mags?'

‘No, we're both free again. From last night. That's why I called. I thought you should know.'

‘Thanks.'

‘So can I come over?'

‘Don't you have work?'

‘I … I'm taking some time off.'

‘Must be nice for you. My parents don't get time off.'

‘Can I come over or not?'

Kes hesitated. Any diversion would be welcome after three months stuck in her dome babysitting her brother, but there was a reason she'd been refusing Lari's calls.

‘Why?'

‘I just want to chat. Properly.'

She stared at him for a moment. ‘Fine. Whatever you want.'

‘I'll see you soon.'

The terminal went dark.

Kes paced around the apartment. She knew every scratch in the walls and every little bump in the floors so well that she could find her way around blindfolded if she had to.

Why would he be coming over? Nothing for months, and then this? She stared out the grimy clearcrete window.

How was she going to talk to him? She really didn't know. Gregor had told her she needed to rebuild her bridges, and of course he was right. She'd be no value to the Underground – sky, she'd be no value to anyone – unless she had the ear of Larinan Mann.

That was the bit which really hurt. It didn't matter what she did, any of it. It didn't matter how good she was with data systems, how fast she could access the right protocols, or how easily she could spot an error or inconsistency in the code and then either fix or exploit it. None of that mattered to anyone, because first and foremost, where other people were concerned, she wasn't Kesra Anatale but Larinan Mann's mixie friend.

The city barred her from the mags. Why? Because she was Larinan Mann's friend.

The Underground had helped her get into the advanced school just so she'd befriend Larinan Mann. They'd cultivated her for years, waiting for this moment, waiting until Lari became important enough that she could draw him in for them. They'd pacified her, lied to her, made her lie in turn.

Nobody saw Kesra Anatale. All they saw when they looked at her was Larinan Mann, and that was all they wanted.

She'd done a lot of thinking in the last three months, but now, with Lari magging over to her dome, she was no closer to knowing what to do.

Kes sighed. If only she'd known. But it wouldn't have made a difference. She'd have done exactly the same. They'd chosen her well. And early, too, right back when she was still nothing more than a little kid in prep. She remembered clearly the day her teacher had pulled her aside.

‘Kesra, I have a question for you.'

‘Yes, miss?'

‘You're the brightest little girl I've taught in a long, long time. You know that? A long way ahead of the others.'

Five-year-old Kes smiled shyly, and her teacher continued.

‘I'd really like to be able to send you to the advanced school for primary. Would you like that?'

Kes had laughed. Kids from their level didn't go to advanced school, everyone knew that. But then she realised that her teacher wasn't even smiling.

‘Do you think that's funny, Kesra?'

‘Sort of.'

‘I guess it is, in a way. But I'm not joking. If I could organise for you to go to the advanced school, do you think you'd like to?'

Kes still remembered the feeling of those words, the lightheaded giddiness that they carried with them. It was like a tiny ball of hope opening up.

‘Yeah.'

‘Are you certain? It might not be as easy or as much fun as doing primary with your friends from our school. The kids in the advanced school will all be … different. They'll look at you differently, too.'

‘I don't care.' And she didn't. The advanced school was a possibility that mixed-use kids didn't even bother dreaming about. ‘But how can you send me there? Why don't other kids from our school get sent there?'

Her teacher had knelt down and whispered in her ear. ‘I can't explain that, Kesra. Normally we couldn't and, even though I've said it might happen, you shouldn't be too disappointed if it doesn't. But I have some friends, who have some friends, who think they can get one little girl into the advanced school, and I think that little girl should be you. Can you accept that and not ask any more questions?'

Kes had nodded, her tiny face all serious now.

‘Good girl. I knew you'd make me proud.'

‘When will I start there?'

‘I don't know yet. Soon. You'll have to be patient, okay?'

‘Sure.'

‘And Kesra, there is one more thing, the most important thing of all. Whatever happens, if you get into the school, or even if you don't, it's very, very important that this is our secret. All right? You can't tell anyone that we've had this talk.
Anyone at all
about it, ever. Not even your mum and dad. Can you do that?'

Kes had nodded again, silenced at being told a secret so enormous it couldn't even be shared with her dad.

‘Are you certain, Kesra? Secrets can be very hard things to keep sometimes. Especially from the people you love the most. But you have to keep this one, more than anything else. Can you?'

‘Yes.'

‘I knew you could.' Her teacher had smiled then. ‘Here, this is for you.'

Reaching up, she'd unclasped a small pendant on a fine chain from around her neck. It was of two silver tridents, backing up to one another.

‘Think of me when you wear it.'

‘What will I tell my mum if she sees it?'

‘It would be better if she didn't. But if you have to, you can tell her it's a present from me.'

Her teacher had propelled her gently from the room and, without Kes being any the wiser, into the Underground.

‘They picked me well.' Standing by the window of her apartment, Kes's fingers sought out the chain and pulled it out, holding it up to the light, watching it twist slightly as she dangled it, the tridents' points always indicating outwards, whichever way it faced. ‘They must have known.'

And they had chosen well. It was years later, long after she and Lari had become firm friends, that she'd been approached again and told what that tiny pendant really meant. It wasn't a gift so much as a mark of ownership. Her teacher had given her to the Underground.

Kes was spared from further reverie by the door chiming. She opened it without hesitation.

‘Hey.'

‘Lari.'

He looked different, somehow. Older? Perhaps that's what being allocated did to you.

‘You look well.'

‘Thanks.'

She let him stand there, awkward and fidgety. He wanted to come in, she knew, but Kes folded her arms and waited.

‘You want to go and get a caf?'

‘I'm watching the Bean.'

‘Oh.' Lari stared at his feet before meeting her eyes again. ‘Listen, Kes, about what happened with Gregor …'

‘I don't want to hear it, Lari.'

‘Hear what?'

‘That you're sorry. I don't care whether you're sorry or not.'

‘But I am.'

‘Good for you, then. It doesn't change the fact that you stood there and let them do …
that
… to me. Twice. You've got no idea what it was like.'

‘I didn't have any choice.'

‘There's always a choice, Larinan. It's just that sometimes the alternatives aren't the ones you want to hear.'

Gregor's words from her mouth.

‘Listen, I came over to apologise. If you can't take an apology …'

‘I can take the apology, Larinan. It doesn't mean I care.'

‘I'm sorry you feel that way, Kes. If you knew what Gregor wanted, you'd understand why I didn't have any choice.'

‘Is that why you're here? To explain what was important enough that you were happy to let them keep torturing me?'

‘I thought you had a right to know. That's all.' Lari turned away. ‘I'm sorry I bothered you. I won't do it again. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry they hurt you, too, whether you care or not.'

She let him take a few steps.

Don't rush. Don't be too eager …

‘Lari …'

He stopped.

‘Come in, then. As long as you're here. Come and tell me everything.'

‘It'll take a while, there's a lot to tell.'

For the first time in a long time, Kes threw Lari a quick smile. It felt good.

‘I've got time,' she said.

A trickle of sweat itched down Lari's temple and dropped from his eyebrow onto the neck seal, but Lari was so used to it by this time that he ignored it.

‘Give us a couple more minutes, copygen, I'm just re-initialising the recording gear.'

In the gloom of the airlock, with the only sounds the humming fans inside his suit, Lari thought about Kes. When he'd finally left her apartment an hour ago, she seemed to have forgiven him, as far as he could tell. She was still behaving oddly, but she hadn't objected when he said he'd call her later.

He was glad he'd told her. And now she knew all of it – the girl, the entropy scenario, the Prelate's ultimatum. He'd told her everything, and if nothing else it was a relief to be able to talk to someone who didn't have a vested interest in what happened to the girl waiting on the other side of the grey door in front of him.

‘Are you ready?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Okay, opening now.'

As always, the light that flooded in from the chamber was momentarily blinding, even through the helmet. And as always, Lari expected it to feel warm, but of course no heat managed to penetrate the heavy shielding of the daysuit.

‘All good, copygen?'

‘Fine.'

‘In you go, then. She's sitting on the floor on the far side.'

Lari stepped across the threshold and into the white room, toggling the suit's external coms as he did so.

‘Hello?'

The lights flared for a couple of seconds at almost the same moment as he entered, just as they always did. As Janil had said, the girl was propped up against the wall, her legs hugged to her chest with her skinny arms. Lari made his way across to her. She no longer tensed up or backed away when he entered, which was something, but she still got nervous if he came too close.

‘It's Lari. How are you today?'

His questions drew no response other than a dark-eyed stare. He toggled his coms.

‘Why are we even bothering? She hasn't answered in three months, she's not going to start today.'

‘Tell her she's got a week left to live. That might stir her up.'

‘Janil!' Their father's voice broke across the transmission. ‘That will do! Larinan, just follow the protocols and ask the usual questions.'

‘Will do. How're my levels? The lights flared when I stepped in.'

‘All fine. This new suit is holding up, no worries. Now, are you going to talk to her or just stand there like a dummy?'

Lari toggled the coms again.

‘Do you feel like talking yet? What's your name?'

From her position on the floor, the girl regarded him. ‘Why didn't you come yesterday?'

‘What?' Lari was so startled at actually hearing her speak that he thought the voice was coming from somewhere else.

‘Good work, Larinan. Finally!' His father's voice was jubilant. ‘Now, don't give too much away, but keep her talking. Whatever you do, keep her talking.'

‘I … How are you?'

‘Why didn't you come yesterday, eh?' The girl's voice was soft and Lari could tell she was fighting fear. In truth, he felt pretty nervous himself.

‘I couldn't come. Something … happened.'

The girl nodded, not taking her eyes off him.

‘How come you wanna know my name?'

Her accent was strange. Each individual syllable was lengthened, and the words blurred into one another, so that she seemed to be speaking entire sentences as one long word, rather than individual ones. Lari had to concentrate.

‘Your … name?'

‘Yeah. Every time you come in here, it's always the first thing you ask. Why do you wanna know so bad?'

‘I don't. I mean, I do … I just want to know what to call you when I talk to you.'

The girl thought about this for a second, then nodded.

‘So are you going to tell me?'

‘Perhaps. Not right now, though.'

‘Ask her how she's feeling, copygen.' Janil's voice crackled through his earpiece.

‘How are you?'

The girl stared at him then leapt to her feet. It was the first time Lari had seen her upright in such close proximity. Before she'd always been curled on the floor or hunched against the wall somewhere. He realised with a start just how tiny she was. Her arms and legs looked as though they'd snap in a strong breeze, and the top of her head was barely level with his chest. She faced him squarely, her chin tilted upwards defiantly, her hands on her boney hips. Beneath the thin white gown they'd clothed her in, her breasts were little more than two tiny lumps, so small that she looked more like a young boy than a teenage girl.

‘How am I? You mob have stuck me here in this place, don't give me any food, and you keep making me sleep when I don't want to, dream when I don't want to. And you've been doing stuff to me when I'm not awake, eh? I'm not stupid. Look …'

She pointed at a small round bruise on her upper arm. A tiny dot of dried blood clung to the centre of it.

‘When I wake up I've got these. Didn't have them before, but I wake up and there they are. And this place you've got me in …' She waved an arm around the white chamber. ‘It's bloody cold and there's nothing to reach. Nothing to feel. And it's too bright all the time. You want to know how I'm feeling? Have a think.'

She folded her arms.

‘Listen …' Lari started to speak, but his father's voice filled his earpiece.

‘You need to get her trust, Larinan. Reassure her. Tell her you'll get some food.'

‘But we don't have any food suitable for her metabolism.'

‘We'll find something. Just reassure her, Larinan. Apologise.'

‘I'm really sorry,' Lari told the girl. ‘Really. We don't want to hurt you or anything. We just need your help.' It was a lame thing to say, he knew.

The girl's eyes narrowed. ‘My help?'

‘Yeah. We need to know how you work, how your body works. And about how you live.'

‘Live?'

‘You know, out there.' He gestured back towards the airlock doorway and watched the girl's expression. She took a small, involuntary step back.

‘You lot've been watching us for a long time now. What could we tell you that you don't already know?'

‘All sorts of things. We need to know how you survive out there. How you've managed to last this long.'

‘How come?'

‘Sorry?'

‘How come you want to know this stuff all of a sudden? And why me? You coulda grabbed Dariand, or Dreamer Gaardi, or Gan, but you lot've been chasing me. Why?'

Lari thought desperately, searching for a convincing lie.

‘You're young. You're special.'

It was not a lie, but it didn't reveal too much, either. The girl looked him up and down, taking in the suit, the helmet.

‘I'll make a deal with you, eh?'

‘A deal?'

‘No way!' Janil burst out. ‘We don't make deals with the subjects. That's completely unacceptable …'

‘What deal?' Lari asked.

‘You want me to tell you things, then okay. You ask me questions and I'll answer them, but you gotta answer my questions, too. Anything I ask.'

‘I can't promise …'

‘Then we got nothing to talk about.' The girl lowered herself to the ground, her back against the wall again, and resumed the hunched, silent position she'd been in when Lari entered.

‘Larinan, do something! You can't let her retreat into herself.'

Awkwardly, Lari crouched beside her.

‘What do you want to know?' he asked softly.

‘What do you look like under that thing?'

‘My helmet?' He lifted his gloved fingers to the faceplate. ‘Just like a normal person. Like you, only bigger and paler.'

‘Show me.'

‘I can't.' He shook his head. ‘The light in here would … I'd get hurt.'

‘Thought you said you lot were the same as us?'

‘There are a few differences.'

‘That's the deal, then.'

‘What is?'

‘If you want me to talk any more, you gotta show me. Take that thing off your head.'

‘Don't even
think
about it, copygen.'

Lari toggled the suit's external coms off.

‘Can we dim the lights in here?'

‘No,' Janil snapped immediately. ‘The radiation system is preprogrammed.'

‘There's no way, Larinan,' their father added. ‘It's too great a risk to you. And to her. No Darklander has laid eyes on one of us for hundreds of years. We have no idea how she'd react.'

‘Well?' The girl was looking at him impatiently. ‘You gonna show me what you're hiding under there, or not?'

Lari moved over to the closed inner-door. The girl rose and followed. He toggled his coms on again.

‘I'm sorry. There's no way I can. It's just too dangerous.'

‘That's a pity. Would've been nice to talk some more.'

‘We can talk again, just—'

‘No.' She shook her head. ‘That's it. No deal.'

The lights flared again briefly and Lari glanced up into the glare. He knew his father and brother would be watching his every move. Hoping they were ready to respond, he reached up with one gloved hand and snapped the seal that held his helmet secure.

‘Larinan! NO!' Over the hissing rush of air out through the neck of his suit, Lari was barely even aware of his father's shout.

‘SHI!' Janil's curse was the last thing Lari heard before his earpiece came out as he lifted the helmet awkwardly off his shoulders.

The heat was strange. It was intense, but almost so much as to be cold. The light burned with a fierceness Lari could never have imagined. The moment his head was exposed, the chamber flared again and the brightness was like a physical blow, searing the skin from his scalp and nose and the tops of his ears. Gasping, he was barely even aware of the floor coming up under him as he collapsed to his knees, his helmet dropping heavily and rolling away, forgotten. Instantly, his wristband started chiming and sending urgent pulses up his arm.

‘I … There,' he gasped.

Light danced across the back of his eyes, leaving the white room an indistinguishable blur. As he fell, rolling onto his back and struggling to shield his head with his hands, he was dimly aware of a shadow leaning over him, sheltering his head.

The girl touched his face and her fingers felt like icy spikes dragging across his cheeks. She leaned into his blurred field of vision and Lari thought she was going to kiss him. Her lips came closer and closer, down towards his face, but they stopped and he stared up into those dark eyes as they hovered above him. There were horizons in them.

‘Saria,' she whispered.

Then the chamber's circulation fans screamed into life, the lights dimmed, and Lari let himself fall into the cool darkness of unconsciousness.

Ma Lee used to tell her about night spirits.

‘Don' you be wanderin' around in the middle of the night, girl. You walk into the wrong place, an' one of them'll have you; suck the heart right outa you, eh? Cold, they are. Cold an' empty and looking for something to fill them; looking for life. You got it, they want it.'

Lari.

Just briefly she'd reached him. Right at the moment before he'd collapsed. And he'd been there, just like anyone would … Hot. Alive. Kissed by skyfire, true, but no longer a hole in the world.

Not just like her, no. But not all that different, either.

There'd been none of the Earthmother in him, though. She knew that the moment he lifted that shiny thing off his head. This creature had never walked on the dirt, driven his toes into red dust, or drunk water from the deep places.

He was like an empty person, a burned-out mind but alive, like she imagined one of Ma's night spirits would be. A living, empty wisp of life, latching onto any source of warmth it could find; draining it dry, until there was nothing left, but never being filled itself.