The Seek (19 page)

As she stood up he took her hand to help pull her to standing. ‘Now you’ll be a different kind of dancer,’ he said. And he smiled at her through broken teeth
.

Kyn fabricated an excuse to leave the lockdown. There was too much swirling through her head, and without physical release, it was close to impossible to manage it. She knew she couldn’t run in this tiny ship, and she definitely couldn’t dance — the landing pods were functionally small — but at least she could move out of the oppressive foreboding of the lockdown, where she almost felt like she could smell the trepidation and wondering from her twelve charges.

Eleven, she reminded herself. Eleven charges, and Asha where Reetor had been.

She allowed herself a brief moment of concern for Reetor as she touched the release on the seat. Would The Council have him by now? And where would they take him for the trial and punishment? If there were extenuating circumstances, he might be sent to Earth Three. Kyn shuddered. Better there were no such circumstances. Execution would be better than a long, slow death on Earth Three. Perhaps they wouldn’t catch him. She tried to call his face to her mind as she slid out the door of the lockdown. Exactly how clever was he? Where would he go? How long would he last? And how the hell would a life as a friendless fugitive, unable to trust anyone, make him any less crazy than life as an Avenger had?

She padded down the corridor, making for the viewing bay. She could feel by the movement and the air pressure that they were cruising.

The journey had been uneventful so far. She just wanted to look a little. If she couldn’t run, if she couldn’t dance, she just wanted to watch. The hatch was for the non-recyclables, which were minimal because of the very strict policies of New Earth. The last thing they needed was to become known as a race of polluters. Bad enough that they did the things they did; so much worse if they fouled the stars with their filth as well.

Kyn sat by the hatch and drew her legs in under herself. It was tricky sitting on the floor in the landing suit, but they had to be prepared. The latest reports said the atmosphere was oxygenated, but they had learned the hard way that didn’t always mean it was completely friendly to the skin, lungs and organs of humans.

Kyn stared out the hatch. Regardless of all the things that pressed in on you, when you were a universe-cruising refugee on borrowed time, this was sure something else. Kyn traced a finger on the perspete separating her fragile human skin from the cool black velvet of space. This was some show.

Eden 13 lay at the very outer edges of Sector Five, and Sector Five was one of the largest they’d encountered and mapped so far, and the most sparsely populated. But the things that lived in the sector were also among the most deadly. Damn shame it was so rich in vientamite, and some of the other life-supporting resources humans needed to survive and trade, clinging to life as the last of their kind. Mother Earth Five employed the same tactics used by all the stations, hiding in plain view among the roughest and deadliest zones of each Sector — the asteroid belts, the edges of black holes, the poisoned outer rings of abandoned stars beginning their inevitable ticking countdown towards disintegration.

But to come to Eden, the pod had to leave the relative safety of that fragile camouflage, and venture out into the wilds.

Kyn shook her head softly at the spectacle before her, amazed as always at how diverse the universe was. In this corner, purple stars shot and fizzed around the pod, lit up by unknown gases travelling on unknown pathways. Small but intensely bright yellow stars — mere chunks of rock, really — floated past like wildflowers on a light breeze. The other larger and better-known planets of the Sector, such as Tyver, had been left far behind, and the space around the ship seemed almost purpley-black, lush and inviting. As though you might wade out into it, far away from thoughts of what awaited you on the other side of this trip; away from thoughts of what you must do, and how carefully you must do it.

A purple fizzer streaked dazzlingly across in front of Kyn’s eyes, which blinked at the unexpected violation. She shut them quickly, becoming aware as she did that her breath was stilling and her pulse settling after her near meltdown back in the lockdown. This was a good choice. This was what she needed. To be alone. The universe might be so much less scary if you could just be sure that you were alone all the time; if someone wasn’t always waiting to pick you off if you got too close, or too greedy, or too strong. Kyn allowed herself to rest a second longer, her eyes closed, her hand on the perspete. The ship almost felt motionless, and she spared a moment to consider that Symon had become a very good nav indeed to manoeuvre his way through all this clutter and still give them such a smooth ride. A smile ambushed her face at the thought. Boys just love to drive.

‘It’ll get rougher closer to Eden,’ Krysto’s disembodied voice assured her.

She didn’t bother to open her eyes. She felt him lower himself down beside her. ‘Shouldn’t you be manning the guns, just in case?’

‘We’d have a visual, or sigs, if there were any bogies in range.’

She grunted, keeping her eyes closed. She was tired, but it wasn’t that. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to see any kind of recrimination there. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve it.

But he didn’t take the hint.

‘You just out for a stroll, then?’ She tried hard not to make her voice sound quite so accusing, but it was hard. She only really had a couple of speeds: antagonistic, and vaguely satisfied.

‘I guess.’ His boots grazed hers as he stretched his long legs out in the little bay facing her.

She opened one eye. ‘Surely you’ve got a better view from up there?’ She motioned to the top.

He shrugged. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ That lazy smile bit meaningfully into his sexy young face.

Kyn narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You trying to stake a claim?’

He frowned. ‘What?’ His body tensed visibly and satisfyingly. ‘Whatcha mean?’

She pulled a face at him. ‘C’mon, Lieutenant,’ she said gently. ‘You know, what you saw, before, between me and Sy —’ She stopped herself. ‘The nav.’

‘Symon.’ Was she imagining it, or did Kysto say the word with a slight sneer?

‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘Symon.’ There was no reason she needed to explain anything to Kysto. But… ‘We have some history,’ she said shortly.

‘No shit,’ he said, and she was sure he was working hard to keep his face and voice casual. She looked closer. Yep, a slight twitch under one eye. There was always a tell. ‘And here I thought you were born an Avenger.’

She didn’t grace it with an answer, but she smiled a little as she shut her eyes again.

‘I dunno,’ he said, eventually. Her eyes flicked open. He was frowning like he was thinking something over. ‘I just don’t buy you with a fly-boy.’

She kicked his foot with hers, the bright lights from the place beyond the hatch suddenly hurting her eyes. ‘You don’t gotta buy me with anyone,’ she said, more harshly than she’d intended. ‘Including you.’ She moved onto her knees with one swift move, and studied the younger man. There was definitely something about him; an openness, a confidence beyond his years. But it was laced with a delicious vulnerability, and capped off with the general awesomeness of an Avenger. Like that first day, something about him intrigued her, made her want to explain more than she usually did.

‘We have some history, like I said,’ she said finally. ‘It’s a long story.’

‘Doesn’t sound it,’ Krysto said, grinning at her. ‘Or maybe that’s just your storytelling skills needing a little practice.’

He didn’t look like he was going anywhere and suddenly it all became a little too much for Kyn.

Krysto.

Symon.

Even bloody Tabi and Asha.

All with her on this damn mission. Kissing her, and following her, and getting involved in her life.

‘Look,’ she said, trying to inject a warm congeniality into her voice. ‘What do you want, Krysto?’

The younger man hesitated a second, the casual smile almost slipping. Finally, he licked his lips and swallowed. ‘More,’ he said softly. ‘I want more, with you.’ He reached forward and took Kyntura’s hand. ‘I don’t want hearts and flowers, I know we can’t. And I don’t want to scare you. And I don’t want to make things hard for you.’ His voice lowered a little. ‘And I’m not gonna tell anyone, whatever happens. I just…’ He stared hard into her eyes. ‘I just like being around you. It makes me feel more —’

She knew. She knew from the moment he had started to speak. She suddenly knew why he seemed to want this so much. She remembered him that first night, begging her to tell him whether she ever wondered if she really existed.

‘It makes you feel more real?’
Goddamn him
.

He nodded.

Kyn closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘No, Krysto,’ she said. ‘It’s not happening.’ She forced her voice harder. ‘It’s never happening.’ And as the words formed, solid and bitter in her mouth, she knew she meant it.

Not because of the rules.

Not even because the rules made sense.

But because she knew this boy, this beautiful boy, could not give her what she needed. She could be some kind of security blanket for him, sure, some assurance that all the human parts of him were not lost forever in the swirl of fight and fear. But what did she get in return?

She didn’t need him like he needed her. She didn’t need anyone.

And she would not listen, not for one single second, to the whining, harping voice in her head that kept wanting to tell her that was another damn lie, and that she knew exactly what she wanted. Had known for ten years, even as she was running away from it, even as she was exorcising it daily.

‘Why not?’ He wasn’t pleading. He wasn’t angry, or pathetic. His face was open and curious; maybe a little sad.

‘I think the lady’s made her position pretty clear.’ Symon’s gravelly growl scraped nervous tension into Kyn’s tummy. She was on her feet in a second, and Krysto followed a nanosecond later. She thought again how similar they were; she and Kyrsto, Avengers both. Fighters, spoiling for a scrap.

Kyrtso’s face was cold as he turned to Symon. ‘Who the fuck is driving?’

Symon shrugged. ‘Settle, big boy,’ he said gently. ‘Even on Old Earth they had autopilot.’

‘I like someone up top,’ Kyn said, hooking her thumb towards the flight deck.

Krysto nodded. ‘We’re talking,’ he snapped in Symon’s direction, looking at Kyn.

Symon stepped closer to Kyn. He didn’t touch her, he didn’t say anything. But Kyn felt the force of his possession claim her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream, or hit him. Problem was, it felt good. Too damn good, to be back with Symon. Just as good as it always had, but now with this other thing, this something new between them.

Not so new
, her inner harpy interjected.

She slapped it down.

But Kysto wasn’t finished. ‘I know her,’ he said to Symon. ‘I know her too, you know.’

The way he said it; it was so plaintive that something sharp and serrated twisted in Kyn’s gut. Her knees buckled and she almost swayed on the sport. Oh great. All she needed right now was to swoon like a girl.

‘You don’t know the half of her,’ Symon growled, reaching out and placing a hand gently under Kyn’s elbow to support her. How could this be? Still, ten years later, he knew her so well. It was like he could feel the weakness in her legs from the emotional force of the interaction. He reached for her instinctively, like he had that first night, in the bomb shelter. Like he had a thousand times in between that night and the night she left forever.

‘Yeah, well,’ Krysto said, casting his eyes down as he pushed past them. ‘You don’t know the other half of her, nav.’ He stopped, and eyeballed Symon frankly as he passed him. ‘You’ll never know what it means to be an Avenger.’

‘Aye aye, Lieutenant,’ Symon growled as Krysto passed him on his way back to the top. ‘I’m sure that’s true. And I’ll see you on deck in a moment.’

Then Krysto was gone.

‘You okay, Kyntura?’ Symon spoke quietly, as though afraid he might spook her.

Kyn flapped a hand. ‘It’s been a weird day,’ she said, trying to examine all the confusing pieces of the emotions warring within her.

‘The kid who absconded?’ Symon’s mouth was a firm line.

Kyn’s tummy dropped at his words. Reetor. Poor, clever Reetor. So afraid, and so alone. Kyn understood alone. She nodded. ‘Yeah, that,’ she agreed, stretching her neck to relieve it of the headache building at its base. ‘It’s just so unfair.’

‘Y’know,’ Symon said, moving closer to her, ‘I think he’ll be okay. He’s smart, like you said.’

Kyn frowned at him. He had no idea. She sighed. Just when she thought he was all grown up. ‘You don’t get it,’ she said. She wanted him to understand, but she also didn’t want him to understand. She wanted him to really know why she was feeling what she was feeling. But there were things people on the outside just didn’t need to know.

She settled for what she thought might be some middle ground. ‘Avengers, we’re not really…citizens…like the rest of you. We don’t exactly have the same set of civic rights. Things don’t go so well for us when we decide we don’t want to come to the party anymore.’

Symon laughed a low, not-very-amused growly laugh. ‘You think any of us have civic rights? You think the repopulators have so many more civic rights that you?’ He laughed again, then cut it short. ‘All they have is a different kind of slavery.’

Kyn’s eyes narrowed. This was dangerous talk. ‘There are no rights in the trenches,’ she said. And she meant it. ‘There’s only duty. And survival.’

He looked at her, scepticism written all over his darkly beautiful face.

She tried again. ‘It’s true, Symon.’ She pictured Pietr’s face. All the things he had been part of, things he hated, but he got it. ‘We’ll never make it unless we make some sacrifices.’

Symon moved a step closer to her. She could smell the heat of his skin and the salty tang of his hair. Eyes the colour of the rich, fertile earth around Sweetheart, Georgia, bored into her.