Equinox (10 page)

“We all should have,” Rosie said.

He shook his head and they were both silent.

Rosie pulled her knees to her chest. “I shouldn’t have gone to see Dad,” she said softly.

“You couldn’t have known.”

Why wasn’t he more angry with her? Rosie was too tired to figure that out. “I thought Dalton was Helios,” she said. “I thought …” She shook her head. “What are we going to do, Riley? Who do you think’s behind this? Helios?”

He tapped a finger on her com. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense if it is. Why wouldn’t they just take you?”

“But now the Senate know that there’s someone who can cure the MalX,” she said. “What will they do to me?”

“They’ll have a lot of questions.” He flicked the back off her com and began fiddling with the workings. “I’ll need to adjust this, make sure it can’t be tracked – again.”

“But I can’t hide from the Senate,” Rosie said. “They’ve got eyes everywhere.”

“No.” He met her gaze. “Your aunt’s coming tomorrow to get you. There’s only one way to sort this situation and I’ve got some things I need to take care of.”

Rosie swallowed hard. “What way?”

“We’ll have to turn you in to Senate Prime.”

She couldn’t have heard him right. “What?” It felt like something cold had just squeezed all her guts out. Prime was Senate headquarters, where the agents worked – and where prisoners were interrogated. “But Helios has spies in the Senate.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ve got a contact inside; she’ll take care of you. We’ll find a way to get around the questions and get you out.”

She felt stunned and very, very scared, not quite believing this was the only choice.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sorry, Rosie. This way we have a shot at controlling things, and you’ll be okay.” His words were calm, but beneath them she sensed a strain that hadn’t been there before and there was a shadow behind his eyes, like he wasn’t telling her everything. Like always.

“I’ve brought something that will help.” He reached into a brown messenger bag and pulled out a small injection tube filled with clear liquid.

“What’s that?” Rosie regarded it.

“It’s not what you think.”

“I was thinking it’s a needle.”

His mouth twitched. “Suspended in the fluid are nanoplants programmed to construct a molecular implant behind your ear when injected.”

“And what do I need that for?”

“Rosie, you know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t safe and necessary,” Riley said. “The implant is virtually undetectable and it’s biologically based. You won’t even know it’s there. But I will. At its base level it’s a tracking device, so if anything does happen in Senate Prime–’

“At its base level?” Rosie said.

A strained yet patient expression crossed his face. “It also monitors your life signs.”

“In case they stop.”

Riley’s mouth thinned. “Its purpose is to make sure I know where you are at all times, so if the worst case scenario does occur, I can find you.”

Rosie didn’t like the idea one bit. An implant in her skull.

Riley put the tube in his lap and that shadow came over his face again, making the fine lines harder, deeper. “Look, Rosie,” he said. “I know you’re not keen on this but I need you to do it. I would never do anything that harmed you, you know that. I only want to keep you as safe as possible.”

There was sadness in his eyes behind that determination he always wore, but there was also something else. Worry. And that made her feel awkward and scared, because she counted on him not to be worried. Riley being worried reminded her he wasn’t superhuman. She tilted her head, brushing her hair back from her neck.

“Okay, fine, fill me with nanos.”

He got a sanitiser patch from his bag and swabbed her neck. “It won’t hurt – just don’t move.” There was relief in his voice.

She felt the sharp touch of the needle against her skin and kept her eyes on the fireplace as he pumped the tube. It was painless: all she felt was a tiny surge of coolness then it was gone.

“Good girl.” He wiped the spot and put the tube back in his bag then got up. “It will take a few hours for the nanos to construct the implant but it should be done by the time Essie comes.”

Rosie touched the place on her neck where the needle had punctured the skin.

For a second he seemed to be considering telling her something, a slight frown between his brows. But then he turned away and Rosie got that scared feeling again. What wasn’t he telling her?

“Riley?” He paused at the steps, his gaze calm. “Um, are you …” She was going to say okay, but couldn’t quite get the word out with the way he was looking at her, steady as always. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

A small almost-smile touched his mouth. “I know. Get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”

Despite thinking it was impossible, Rosie managed to go back to sleep and woke to bright sunlight. She squinted and wished she’d remembered to activate the window screens. Her shoulder was stiff and jabs of pain poked at her back and ribs. What time was it?

The floor-to-ceiling window revealed a wide pale brown deck and a waist-high railing, beyond which were low dunes, tufts of greyish grass, then ocean. There were no other buildings in sight and the sky was cloud-scuffed and glaring with heat already. She rubbed her face and sat up slowly. The burn from the pulse gun had left an exclamation-shaped streak down her left shoulder blade and the back of her arm, but at least it wasn’t throbbing with pain any more. Dalton’s cream had done the job. Good thing she was right-handed.

She touched the spot on her neck where the needle had gone in. Besides a tiny bump, there was no indication she had nanobots circling up into her skull, busily building a microscopic implant. The thought of it made her skin feel paper-thin and supersensitive, as if she was aware of every cell in her blood moving. It wasn’t a great feeling. She grimaced as she caught a whiff of her own armpit and got up to investigate the bathroom.

Ten minutes later her hair was washed and her body was clean but she had to wait another five for her clothes, which she’d shoved in the cleaning unit. Wrapped in a towel she stared moodily through the window of the cleaner. Inside her tank top zipped by in flashes of red. Her insides were hollow with anxiety and too many thoughts crowded into her head. Everything felt like it was falling apart and she had a strong desire to run. But where would she go?

The cleaning unit beeped and she jumped.
Stop festering
.

The faint sound of a guitar being played was in the air when she emerged from her room and she followed it past the white lounge and fireplace to a very large kitchen. She slowed as she neared the door. The music was coming from in there. It was a soft strumming, rhythmic, and as she hesitated Dalton began to sing. His voice was husky, soulful, rising and falling with the strumming. It sounded private and Rosie stood in the doorway, unsure if she should go in. She turned to leave, but her shoes squeaked on the floor and the music faltered.

“Rosie?” Dalton called.

She paused, wondering for a second if she should pretend she wasn’t there.

“I can hear you breathing,” he said.

She stepped into the room, peering around the door. “Hi.”

He was sitting at a long table, a beautiful golden-coloured guitar on his lap. Beyond him a transparent barrier that mimicked an expanse of glass separated the room from the deck outside. It shimmered, deflecting the heat of the morning. A screen projection on the wall near the door detailed the UV index and the latest news waves.

“You hungry? Thirsty?” he said. “We’ve got pineapple juice.” He indicated a jug of something yellow on the table in front of him.

Rosie had never in her life had pineapple juice. “Starving,” she said.

“Get what you like from the dispenser. Glasses are in the cupboard next to it.” He went back to plucking at his guitar strings. “How’s that burn this morning?”

Rosie shrugged, then immediately regretted it as pain ran down her arm. “I’ll cope.” She chose a bowl of noodles with soy from the dispenser and carried it and an empty glass to the table, sitting opposite Dalton. He kept strumming the guitar, not looking at her.

“You’re pretty good,” she said.

He let out a short breathy laugh. “Thanks; flattery will get you everywhere.”

Rosie twirled some noodles around her fork. “So do you play a lot then?”

“Not any more. Father doesn’t approve. A waste of good study time, he calls it.” There was a bitter edge to his tone. “Music is not an acceptable career path in the Curtis household.”

Rosie hadn’t met Dalton’s dad but she suddenly had a mental picture of him. One of those sharp-jawed Central types, ruthless, probably old money. Never been in the Banks in his life. “How about your mum?” she said.

Dalton’s fingers paused on the strings for a millisecond and there was the tiniest tightening of skin around his eyes. “She’s away a lot. But enough about me. Did Riley tear you to shreds?”

“More or less.” Rosie was curious about his reaction. It was the same one she had when people wanted to know about her mum, about her family. She poured some juice. “I have to go to Senate Prime today, hand myself in.”

He stopped playing to stare at her. “Repeat that?”

“Senate Prime,” Rosie said. “You know, big building in Central, home to all things Senate.”

“I know what it is. But Riley sent me to get you away from them, didn’t he?”

Rosie tried to swallow more juice around the tightening of her throat.

“How much do you know … about me, I mean?”

He leaned back, cradling the guitar. “A bit. Your father was kidnapped by Helios, taken to Mars, you went after them with Riley, brought him back.” He smiled lightly. “How am I doing so far?”

She didn’t smile back. “Anything else?”

His gaze dropped briefly to her neck. “One of those pendants you’re wearing has Riley’s parents’ files on it. You used it to expose Helios’s part in creating the MalX and letting it loose on Earth. And you had some help from a guy named Pip – who used to be Helios and who I’ve met. Once.”

Rosie’s heart jumped. He’d met Pip? “Is that it?”

He shrugged. “Any blanks you want to fill in?”

She tapped her empty glass. If he didn’t know about Pip’s immunity to the MalX, it was probably best left that way. And besides, she really didn’t want to get into it. She already felt too lightly tethered to the earth, weightless with anxiety about going to Senate Prime. And talking about Pip meant thinking about him. Too hard. “Maybe later,” she said.

The amusement in his face faded and a slight hesitation came into his voice as he said, “I also know your dad almost died from the MalX – and that he’s in Greenview now. That’s gotta be tough. I mean after your mum and everything–’

“He’s fine; it’s just temporary,” Rosie said quickly.

“I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay.” She pushed the glass away, tried to pull in the desire to spill her guts. “We’re fine.” She cleared her throat. “So how long have you been working with Riley?”

Dalton looked at her for a second as if he was going to pursue it, but then seemed to change his mind. He started strumming again. “Since after he got back from Mars. He saw the news waves I’d started doing. Found me.” He shrugged again.

“How come you do them?” Rosie said. “I mean, it’s weird, for a Central.”

Dalton tilted his head at her and she saw a shadow behind his eyes. “Who says all Centrals have to like the status quo? Maybe I hate the way the world is as much as you do. It made me angry, seeing what Helios has done to it.”

“Right,” Rosie said, but she got the feeling there was something else besides righteous anger. He strummed the guitar harder. “Then of course there’s how much I hate what my dad does.”

“What does he do?”

Dalton stopped playing. “Water, terraforming, planet colonisation. The big three.” He said it with distaste, like his dad was involved in gangs or something worse. “Our family company owns the largest share of the water mining on Titan and is part of the Gliese colony initiative. You know that ship,
Leviathan
, that broke up on the way back to Earth?” Rosie nodded. “It was full of Curtis and Co equipment. To say my father was pissed is an understatement.” He shook his head, a bitter smile on his face. “He didn’t give a toss about the people who died. He was angry none of them had thought to airlock the freight compartments before they inconveniently got sucked out into space. The whole fight over the wormhole project is mostly being led by his company and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who leaked the news.” He plucked the guitar strings, tense with repressed anger. “Sometimes I wonder if he’s not caught up somehow with Helios. He wasn’t exactly shocked by the MalX revelations or the tests they were doing up on Mars. His response to the number of Ferals Helios kidnapped and killed was that they would have died here on Earth anyway, and at least they got to see Mars.”

Rosie wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t exactly an unheard of reaction for a Central type. “Do you really think your dad could be involved with Helios?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you ever, you know, looked through his stuff or anything?”