Dead and Buryd: A Dystopian Action Adventure Novel (Out of Orbit Book 1) (3 page)

One drysta at the end of the line, a man in his early twenties, caught her eye and opened his mouth to call out. Georgianna quickly shook her head as she strode behind Edtroka, though she longed to run and gather him in her arms. Letting the guards know that they recognised each other would not be a good idea: not when she knew that he had been a Belsa, and not when she knew that the Adveni had already killed his brother Alec for the same reason. She couldn’t bring herself to remember that name, not now. If they discovered Landon’s affiliation, he would not be heading for a life as one of the dreta, he would be heading for execution. The idea of being sold as an Adveni slave like that, like cattle, disgusted her, but she simply turned her head and looked in the other direction. The good she could do was not in stopping the system; it was in making sure that those within the system had basic care. She was a medic, not a revolutionary.

Once they were through the heavy metal doors that led into the compound, the guard Edtroka patted her down and had her empty out her bag onto a sturdy table. He looked through each item. Deeming that none of the objects were dangerous, or intended to be passed on to prisoners, he allowed Georgianna to pack everything haphazardly back into her bag.

The corridors through the compound were wide with clear visibility. Where corridors intersected, they opened into wide, curving mouths, offering little cover. For all the things she could fault about the Adveni, their knowledge of attack theory was not among them: within the compound there was nowhere to hide.

Inside were three blocks: one for those who would become dreta, personal slaves to whichever Adveni had enough money to purchase them, and two for the compound inmates. Georgianna was rarely asked to the compound to visit the dreta block. The Veniche inside were given far better care than the other inmates, in order to be in peak health for their new owners.

Georgianna had learned very early on that the compound inmates were sent into the block and left to fend for themselves. The only time guards went into the block was each morning and evening to carry out a mandatory count. During her time in the compound, she had heard many horror stories about men killed in fights after count and left in the middle of the block until the count the next morning or evening. Most of the time, when fights broke out in the block, there was no point in calling a medic because by the time she’d been contacted, the man was past saving.

The only time prisoners were allowed out of the block was once every other day when they were allowed into a yard kept solely for the permanent inmates. Personally, Georgianna was sure most of the inmates would have preferred to be kept indoors instead of being sent out into the burning heat, but they did not get much choice in the matter. It wasn’t called being buryd for nothing.

As they approached the thick, red, metal door, Georgianna hitched her bag a little higher onto her shoulder and glanced at the guard. He seemed completely uninterested in her, and for a moment, Georgianna felt the familiar fear that once she was inside, she would not be getting out.

The guard, Edtroka, pulled out a device and placed it against the lock on the door. She had seen it on every trip into the compound, and yet still had no understanding of its mechanics. He turned it, and a buzzing sounded from the lock. Next, he brought up a polished black card and placed it against a reader. Lines of a brighter blue than Georgianna had ever seen in the natural world slid across the panel from the spot where the card connected, and slowly, the door creaked and slid open.

“You know how to get out?” Edtroka asked.

She nodded. He asked her the same question every time he walked her to the block. Georgianna couldn’t help wondering whether it was something he had to ask, whether he had once found himself locked inside, or if he just thought her stupid.

“I have my tsentyl.”

Edtroka nodded for her to go in, and as soon as she had stepped through the opening, the door began sliding closed. It shut with a rusty groan.

 
***

 
It was almost an hour before Georgianna sighed, slumping back on her heels. She reached up, about to rub her fingers wearily into her eyes when she realised that they were covered in blood. Pushing herself up, she stepped to the basin in the corner of the cell, twisting the tap until tepid water spurted angrily from the spout beneath.

“Med, what you doing?” Owain, one of the inmates, asked from his spot on the other side of the bars.

She scrubbed the stains from her hands, thinking of what to say. Owain had been rather vocal throughout, always asking questions, telling her the story of how it had happened. The prisoner, Jace, currently sprawled across the flimsy mattress, had gotten into a disagreement with Vajra and Ta Dao, two of the more powerful men within the compound. Though the guards ruled the compound, these men ran the block once the doors were closed. Jace had apparently refused to bow to one of their strict rules and his injuries were their punishment for his disobedience.

As soon as the lock had fallen into place after count, they’d come for Jace. They’d hurt him just enough so that it would be a long, painful death before he was found the next morning. Jace had not died before count thanks to the quiet help of a couple of the inmates, Owain included. However, from Owain’s constant quiet chatter, Georgianna had realised that most likely, those who had helped Jace might be the next to receive a visit once the block door slid closed.

Once her hands were clean, she turned to look at Owain, frowning when she saw his hopeful gaze.

“There’s nothing more for me to do,” she answered. “I’ve done all I can for the wounds, but he was left too long. Infection has gotten in. I only have two options now, to give him drugs to make it easier, or see if he can fight it off.”

Owain glanced both ways as Georgianna dried her hands on her trousers. For a moment, Owain watched Jace, a frown knitting his brow as he finally nodded.

“Give him the drugs,” he said slowly.

“You don’t…”

“Just give him the drugs!”

Owain’s voice was stronger, rougher, and she knew better than to argue. While Owain had been kind to her during her visit, she had no doubts that he knew how to deal with those who weren’t helping his friend. He had the look of a man who had been in the compound for a while. He probably knew what happened to those who couldn’t fight off infection within these walls.

Finally, Georgianna nodded, crouching and digging into her bag for the small bag of pills she hated using most.

 
***

 
Walking towards the end of the cellblock, the door didn’t budge as Georgianna pressed her thumb and middle finger to opposite sides of her tsentyl. Holding it tightly until the cube shuddered, the feeling of a wave travelled up her arm. She didn’t know how it worked, or what the odd sensation proved, but she knew that it sent a signal to the Adveni on the other side of the door, telling them that she was ready to be let out. Sure enough, only moments passed before the thick red door began sliding open. Throwing a look over her shoulder, Georgianna caught the gaze of a beautiful blonde woman sitting on one of the upper levels, her legs dangling over the side. With her arms on one of the railing bars, her chin resting on her hands, she gave Georgianna a brief nod and smile. She’d been watching the entire thing from entrance to end. Any time she glanced out of Jace’s cell, she had spotted the blonde in her position, her bright blue eyes watching from above, like a guard in the tunnels waiting for something.

She pursed her lips, blinked, and turned back to the waiting guard.

“You do your thing?” Edtroka asked.

Georgianna frowned and stepped out of the block.

“No,” she answered as the door slid closed behind her and Edtroka came to her side. “He’s dead.”

 
2
Ships and Supplies

 
It was almost sun-high by the time Georgianna left the compound, once again searched by the guard to make sure she was not taking anything out of the blocks. No matter how many times she visited, the guards still didn’t trust her not to break their rules. It didn’t surprise her. They barely trusted any Veniche, and she wasn’t really any different.

Walking back towards the tunnel entrance, she shrugged off her outer shirt, splattered with blood, and stuffed it unceremoniously into her bag. She knew the dangers of going bare-skinned under the sun, but as she was only going a short distance, she didn’t see the danger in being a little more comfortable. There was next to no breeze, even outside the city, leaving the heat to lie dormant, baking from above and radiating out of the hard ground in visible waves.

It was a welcome relief when she stepped over the threshold and began descending into the tunnel, leaving the direct rays behind her and disappearing into the shadowed underground. The tunnel was deserted this far east, and as pity for those held fast in the compound began creeping up on her, Georgianna shook it off and began humming a tune her mother used to sing while doing chores. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to feel pity for the poor souls buryd, but pity would do them little good, and it would only make continuing on after the death of a patient that much harder.

By the time she reached the main line, she was singing softly under her breath, letting her arms swing back and forth as she walked. After a moment’s pause, instead of turning right to travel north towards Belsa territory, she took the left turn onto the main line, joining the flow of people heading down underneath the Oprust district.

Up ahead, two Adveni in full military gear walked side by side, large copaq guns at their backs. While the men were walking slowly, far more slowly than the pace most in the tunnels would choose, nobody moved to slip past them and hurry onward. Even Georgianna found herself slowing her steps to keep a safe distance behind. It may not have been a crime to overtake and walk in the large space they had created before them, but nobody wanted to risk angering Agrah Adveni when it could be avoided by hanging back.

As the Veniche had learned in the first wave of attacks, the Adveni were a highly militaristic race. Trained from childhood to fight and work for a common goal, they joined one of the branches of their military once they had proven themselves by receiving their nsiloq mark, a painful design drawn into the skin over their ribs.

There were the Agrah, who fought best on land at close quarters with their enemy. The Nyrahby fought from the air in small ships fitted with powerful weapons. Those who commanded the bigger ships that travelled between worlds were classed as Tzelik, and then there were the Tsevstakre, the most dangerous of all. The Tsevstakre were the Adveni elite, their best trained and most skilled, ruthless killers. Georgianna considered herself lucky that she met any of them but rarely.

She slowed her steps further, letting people overtake her and slipping seamlessly back into the crowd. She couldn’t risk taking an exit into hidden tunnels anywhere near an Adveni, let alone two attack-ready Agrah. She didn’t plan on going back to the compound just yet. Giving such a wide berth to the Adveni, it took twice as long to reach the entrance to the Junkyard, home of the Carae. She took one last glance around before she began moving to the other side of the tunnel, finally walking along the wall before a single step sideways had her disappear through a hidden opening into a dimly lit tunnel.

The tunnel into the Junkyard was slim, just wide enough for a single person to walk comfortably. There were only two entrances to the Junkyard, one in the south-east and one in the west, both ending in these bottlenecked tunnels, preventing a swarm of attackers from any direction. It was a long walk through the small tunnel. The ground, uneven and off kilter, was difficult to navigate unless you walked it every day and knew the places to step. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Georgianna had returned from the Junkyard with skinned knees and bruised elbows when she had relaxed and tripped on a hidden rock.

The Carae, like the Belsa, stationed guards in the tunnels that led out towards the main lines. However, unlike the Belsa, a Carae was more likely to shoot you on sight before giving you a chance to identify yourself, so when Georgianna felt she might be getting close, she raised her arms above her head and crossed her wrists, walking forward in slow and cautious steps.

Her effort to appear submissive and of no danger proved useless as a low buzzing sound culminating in five beeps rang out from her pocket. Before she knew it, a gun was placed at the back of her head, its muzzle pressing firmly against her skull. Georgianna jumped; she had no idea how she’d managed to walk past someone, and she’d not heard anyone following behind her.

Standing squarely and keeping her gaze ahead, she kept her wrists crossed above her.

“Get it out!”

She hesitated before she brought her right hand down, digging into her pocket and pulling out the tsentyl. Pressing her thumb to the panel on the cube, she let the low pulse hum out and swiped it open.

“What’s it say?”

Glancing down, she realised she couldn’t look down that far without moving her head, so instead brought the tsentyl up before her, the blue writing glaring out brightly through the darkness.

“Oh, look: Marshall Casey is top of the Adveni kill list,” she answered. “What a surprise.”

For a moment, there was silence, and figuring that the daily alert of the “Veniche at Large” list was nothing a Carae guard would be too surprised about, Georgianna slid the tsentyl back to cube form and carefully slipped it back into her pocket before her hand resumed its position above her head.

“Should know better, Georgianna!” the voice came from behind her again. “I could’ve shot your pretty head off without you ever realising.”

She wanted to turn to see who was talking to her, but while the voice seemed to be amused at her predicament, she couldn’t fully believe they wouldn’t shoot her if she made a wrong move, not until she knew who it was anyway.

“Well, I do like giving you boys some target practice. Would you prefer it if I ran?”