Escape (46 page)

Ferrel shook his head and went to one of the fallen patrollers to steal his sidearm.

Curiously, the old Constantic followed Ferrel's lead, rather than going for his own antiquated rifle, which lay in the back of the tram with Jilly's and Ferrel's confiscated pistols.

When Jilly made no move to arm herself, Ferrel nodded to her. “You might want to grab a weapon
—
in case more patrollers come for us.”

“Why? Aren't you just going to imagine them dead, and watch them keel over? Or is that too boring for you?”

Ferrel shrugged. “Whatever. Suit yourself.” And with that, he walked up to the tram doors, seeming not to notice as he stood on a dead patroller's outstreched hand. Jilly walked up to Ferrel, her face livid, and spun him around by his shoulder just as he was slapping his palm against the door's control panel.

“What is
wrong
with you?”

The doors swished open, revealing a man and a woman and two children, standing in the darkened street, just beyond the railings of the tramway, waiting to board the tram. The woman screamed; the man yelled urgently to his children; and both Jilly and Ferrel turned to look in time to see all four running at top speed away from the tramway.

Ferrel's red eyes glittered, and Lystra appeared over his shoulder.

“Why do they appear frightened?” Lystra asked.

Jilly turned to him, her face drawn in disbelief. “You're joking, right? There are a dozen dead patrollers in this tram car and you're wondering why they're running away from us?”

The old man cocked his head at her and grinned stupidly.

Ferrel walked out through the open doors. Another tram passed theirs with a dopplering roar that rattled their car on its tracks, and Jilly skittered out after Ferrel.

Ahead of them loomed a row of buildings, massive structures extending hundreds of stories above the street level, and who knew how many stories below. The middle structure, the one they were walking toward had a high, arched entranceway, constructed almost entirely of blue-tinted transpiranium. At the top of the arch, following its curvature was a neon blue sign that read:
Tekasi Medical Center
. There were people walking in and out of that entrance, and others coming out on hoverchairs.

As they drew near to the entrance, Jilly whispered: “You'd better do something to hide those weapons, or were going to be right back where we started, heading for the detention center.”

Ferrel tucked his pistol into an inside pocket of his tunic, and Lystra did the same. They passed through the entrance, attracting a few stares with their coarsely-woven tunics and glowing red eyes. The floor of the medical center was a dark, forest green that sparkled iridescently in the golden light splashing out from ornate, pre-colonial wall sconces. The foyer had extraordinarily high ceilings, going all the way to the top of the transpiranium façade of the building. Ferrel turned right, heading for the admissions desk, but Jilly stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“We need to go to emergency if we expect to be seen without an appointment.”

“Do you know where that is?” Ferrel asked.

“No, but
—
”

“So let's ask her,” Ferrel said, nodding to the receptionist behind the desk.

They stopped in front of the desk, but the receptionist was busy at her data terminal and hadn't noticed them. Ferrel rudely snapped his fingers for attention. The receptionist looked up, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but then her mouth dropped open, and her eyes stared blankly, flicking nervously from Ferrel to Jilly, and back again.

“M-may I help you?”

Ferrel flashed an unreserved grin, full of glistening white teeth that seemed somehow sharper than normal. “Yes, could you point the way to the ER, please?”

She pointed behind them, and said, “Follow the signs.”

“Thank you,” Ferrel said, and spun on his heel.

Lystra Deswin stepped up to the counter with a grin. Leaning across the counter, he said, “Hello.”

“Is there something more I can
—
”

Suddenly, Lystra Deswin reached across the counter and grabbed her hand. She yelped in fright, and Ferrel and Jilly turned to see what the commotion was about.

“Hey, Lystra, you old nut bag, what are you doing?” Ferrel asked, striding back to the admissions desk.

“L-let go of me,” the woman stuttered.

Ferrel frowned and pulled Lystra physically away from the woman. He tapped his head and then shook it ruefully. “I apologize, miss. He's not all there, you know?” Her eyes were wide and staring as she gave a slow, understanding nod.

“Goodbye,” Lystra said as they turned and walked away. A moment later he asked: “Why was she afraid?”

“Why do you think?” Jilly supplied.

Following the signs to the ER proved easy enough. They ended up in a vast, crowded room with people crying, whimpering, coughing, and whispering
—
every form of human noise imaginable assaulted their ears. This time, when they reached the admissions desk, the receptionist only raised her eyebrows at their appearance. Red eyes and pale faces didn't impress her. She nodded to a camera and a palm scanner which sat staring at them from one side of the counter.

“Punch in and sit down.”

Lystra Deswin eyed the scanners suspiciously, as if he didn't know what they were for. Jilly demonstrated the process, placing her palm on the scanner and then looking directly into the camera. The scanners emitted a happy tone of recognition, and a computerized voice gave further confirmation: “Welcome, Jilly Ardene Claassen.”

Ferrel stepped up to the scanner next, and a moment later it beeped and said, “Welcome, Ferrel Diselli Catrel.”

Lystra went on staring at the scanners, hesitating for so long that the receptionist looked up from her data terminal.

“Well?” she prompted.

“I'm feeling quite fine,” the old man said, flashing her an unnerving grin.

“Then sit down.” The receptionist pointed imperiously to the banks of seating.

In a gesture as fast as lightning, Lystra's hands shot out and took hold of the receptionist's hand, trapping it between both of his. Jilly frowned, watching as the receptionist tried to jerk away from him. He spent a long moment grinning and staring at her. Her eyebrows drew together in consternation, and she tried to jerk away again, but failed.

“Let me go! Security!”

Jilly took a quick step toward Lystra, intending to pull him back. The last thing they needed was to create a scene.
What is he thinking?
she wondered.

“As you wish,” Lystra said and let go of her hand. He turned and walked away, taking a seat on the nearest bank of chairs. Jilly watched the receptionist rubbing her hand self-consciously and looking rattled. Feeling just as rattled herself, Jilly went to take a seat beside the old man. Ferrel, however, stopped in front of Lystra, looking angry.

“What the kefick was that about?” Ferrel hissed. “Are you trying to get us arrested? Deus knows they have enough reason to with you grabbing every receptionist we meet. Stop attracting so much maledicted attention.”

“I suppose you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Ferrel?” Jilly said.

Ferrel's eyes flashed dangerously. “Whatever. Let's just figure out what the Infernal is happening to us and then get off this keficking world.”

Jilly stared pointedly at Ferrel as he took a seat beside her.

“What?” he asked.

You killed them.

Not for long. That wrinkled nut bag is right
—
it's not so easy to kill someone who's been infected with whatever the Infernal we're infected with.

How can you know that?

Because Kieran is alive.

I watched him die!

So did I, but I can feel them coming.

Jilly looked away, and there was a long, fuming silence in her thoughts.

Think about it. Think about what we're doing right now. We don't know how close we have to be to read each other's thoughts. Try it
—
think about Kieran. Imagine reading his mind from here, and you'll see that I'm right.

Jilly gave no reply, but a moment later Ferrel heard her gasp.

You see? He's alive. And they're coming for us.

He seems very angry. I don't think he realizes that
 
.
 
.
 
.
that he was dead when we left him
.
 
.
 
.
 
.
He seems to think we tried to kill him.

Well, he better watch himself. If he tries to kill me I'm going to wind up killing him for real this time.

Before Jilly could reply to that thought, someone changed the channel on a wall-mounted holoscreen, and a newscaster came on saying:

“Countless Union interceptors have landed all over Da Shon. Planetary authorities are trying to track the ships and their pilots, but so far only empty ships have been found. If you or someone you know spots a suspicious character that you think might be a Union pilot, please call the comm number on the screen. Until all of the pilots have been accounted for, Regent Ashclaw has declared a state of marshal law and imposed a curfew of 1900 standard time. Anyone found out of their residence after 1900 hours will be arrested.”

Jilly exchanged glances with Ferrel.
The sooner we get off of this planet, the better,
she thought.

Chapter 26

K
ieran stood waiting before a glossy black door set into the outside of Crater City's shield dome. He'd just requested permission to enter the city, and the computer had referred him to the Crater City Patrollers Department. After explaining his situation to the lieutenant on the other side of the comm (they were tourists who had mistakenly landed outside the city), he and Dimmi had been instructed to wait to be escorted inside.

And so they were waiting
 
.
 
.
 
.

And waiting
 
.
 
.
 
.

“How will you know where to find them once we're inside the city?”Dimmi asked. “There won't be any more tracks to follow.”

“If I concentrate, I can read their thoughts. A moment ago Ferrel was thinking about a place called the Tekasi Medical Center. We'll go there first.”

The door before them swished open, and they found themselves staring down the barrels of a dozen neural disruptors.

“What the
 
.
 
.
 
.
” Dimmi trailed off.

Kieran read the patrollers' intentions from their thoughts half a second before they fired, and not even he was fast enough to dodge half a dozen of the crackling blue bursts, fired at point blank range.

He and Dimmi crumpled to the ground in unison, and the lead patroller stepped carefully through the doorway and kicked Kieran none-too-gently in the ribs.

When Kieran didn't even stir in response, the patroller nodded and said, “Take these two to the detention center for processing. They won't be giving us any trouble.”

* * *

“Well, it doesn't matter if Kieran and Dimmi are coming to get revenge. Crater City is enormous; they'll never find us here.”

Ferrel snorted and shook his head. “You don't get it
—
”

“Excuse me.” Lystra Deswin interrupted. “May I ask what we are doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Jilly asked, turning to him. “We're here to figure out what's wrong with us, and hopefully, fix it.”

“Wrong with you?”

Jilly frowned. “Did you hit your head or something?” She drew a circle in the air around her eyes. “Does this look normal to you?”

The old man's own eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Yes, I see what you mean.” He stood up from the bank of seats with a grin. “I am going to
 
.
 
.
 
.
relieve
myself. Please take no note of my absence.”

Ferrel frowned up at him and nodded. “Whatever, man. Go make a river.”

Lystra returned his nod, turned and began walking in the opposite direction of the cleansing stations.

“He's going the wrong way
 
.
 
.
 
.
” Jilly said.

“He'll figure it out. Look, like I was saying before nut bag interrupted us, if we can read Kieran's and Dimmi's thoughts, they can read ours, and when they realize that, they'll know where we're going almost as soon as we do.”