Chapter 12
He was failing her.
He had just found her, just made the connection of his dreams with her, and here they were, locked in a cell, exposed to who the hell knew what.
Ethan rubbed a finger over the base of his throat, where he’d felt the small cold ball land, as if Ritter had dropped it when he’d gotten close enough.
He hadn’t placed it down, which made Ethan think he hadn’t been touching it with his hands. Maybe he was holding it using a clamp of some kind.
As soon as Velda sat back down on her now-made bed, he stood and took the single step that divided their beds and crouched down in front of her.
“Here?” he asked, touching the hollow of her clavicle.
She nodded. “You, too?”
He nodded back, and smoothed a finger over her skin.
When he was done, she did the same to him.
Had he felt a strange tingle when she did that? He couldn’t tell if it was psychosomatic or a real response.
He didn’t want to ask her if she felt it, too. Not now, when he was sure Ritter was listening to every single word they said.
He would find a way to whisper the question later.
He nudged her over, and she shifted, leaning against the wall at the head of the bed and stretching out her legs, and he settled in next to her, a barrier between her and the door.
He slid an arm around her and she tipped her head onto his shoulder.
They sat like that, in silence.
Ethan expected the guards to bring them food and water, but no one did.
Eventually, they drank water from the tap in the bathroom, had a quick shower, and then slid down on the bunk.
It would be more comfortable if Ethan were to go over to his own bunk, but he wanted to be right beside her, and she didn’t complain.
He got his pillow, adding it to hers, so things were a little more comfortable, and then she tucked herself under his arm, her head resting on his chest, and even though he tried to keep awake, alert to any danger, he found himself slipping into sleep.
He woke with a suddenness he was used to, especially from his days in the military, but this felt . . . more . . . than usual, as if every sense was at optimum capacity.
He felt well rested, energized, and when he looked down at Velda, she was staring up at him, and there was a sudden connection between them that made his body hum with excitement and a feeling of rightness.
Neither of them had moved anything other than their heads, aside from opening their eyes, and he guessed if they were being watched, they would look like they were still asleep, although it would be difficult to make them out in the darkness.
Some time in the night the lights had gone off, letting them sleep more naturally, but now the lights flicked back on and the door suddenly opened, and Ethan wondered if they’d both unconsciously heard someone moving outside.
He lifted his head to look at who it was, and wasn’t surprised to see the guards from yesterday, along with Ritter.
“How are we feeling this morning?” Ritter asked, studying them with interest.
When Ethan had lifted his head, Velda had pushed up on one hand, and Ethan swung both feet to the floor, giving her room to do the same.
“Hungry,” Velda said.
“I’ll give you something to eat after I’ve taken your vitals,” Ritter said, stepping back as they both got to their feet. “Shackle them, just to be sure,” he told the guards, and then strolled away.
“Hands out.” One of the guards lifted a laz, and the caution Ethan usually felt when someone aimed a laz at him seemed to spike inside him, way more than he’d ever worried about it before.
He stepped in front of Velda, shielding her from the guard’s aim, and thrust his hands forward.
The second guard restrained him and waited until Velda stepped forward to do the same to her.
“Out.”
They stepped into the passageway, which was completely devoid of crew.
Were they deliberately keeping out the way, Ethan wondered? Were they considered dangerous?
Or, more dangerous, he amended. They were dangerous, or at least he knew he would be seen that way, even if Velda wasn’t. But there was a jumpiness to Ritter and the guards that made him think the test subjects hadn’t been very predictable after being experimented on.
“What did some of the crew do after Ritter was finished with them, that you’re so nervous?” he asked.
The guards were behind them, and he glanced over his shoulder as he asked the question.
“They weren’t themselves,” one of the guards said. Then he closed his mouth in a thin line, and Ethan guessed that was all he was going to get.
Interesting.
He didn’t feel not himself. He felt pretty good. Better than he should have for sleeping on an uncomfortable bench, with a skipped meal, and in a stressful situation.
Maybe some of it was Velda. Having her plastered up against him all night had been a sweet torture, but he didn’t even feel stiff, despite the narrow bed and thin mattress.
They reached the med bay, and Ritter was already there, with two gurneys ready for them, restraints attached to the sides for wrists and ankles.
Ethan submitted to it, getting on the raised bed and allowing himself to be restrained, watching as they did the same to Velda.
There wasn’t any choice, and every time a laz was aimed his way, his heart seemed to want to beat its way out of his chest, and his breathing got short.
“Right.” As soon as they were secured, Ritter seemed to relax, setting his screen down on a high shelf, and then taking a standard vitals monitor and checking first Velda, then himself.
“You’re obviously showing signs of not having eaten, but otherwise . . .” He frowned at the screen, and worried his lower lip. “Take them to have some breakfast, then bring them back,” he said to the guards, and walked out, screen still lighting his face.
The one guard made a face at the other at the curt order. Then they did the usual dance of one holding the laz, while the other got them off the gurneys, got restraints back around their wrists, and then marched them ahead to the mess.
“How are you feeling?” Ethan asked Velda quietly as they sat down at the same table they’d had before, waiting for someone to bring them something to eat.
Velda’s gaze, which had been sweeping the room, snapped to his face. “Surprisingly fine,” she said.
So, the same as him.
Something had worried Ritter, and it sounded like it was the lack of change in their vitals, not a difference, that had concerned him.
They ate with their hands still secured, which made things difficult, but not impossible.
The jah tasted good, hot and fragrant, and he savored it, surprised it was as good as this in a small ship’s canteen.
Velda seemed to be enjoying it as much as him, and she’d eaten everything on her plate, which she hadn’t yesterday. Like him, she must be wondering when their next meal would be.
The guards shepherded them back to the med bay, and Ethan stopped abruptly when he saw what was waiting for them.
“What is it?” Velda pressed up against him, then went still as she saw it, too.
The black box from the day before.
“Back on the beds,” Ritter said, pointing.
Ethan watched the scientist with narrowed eyes as he and then Velda were secured again, then blindfolded.
The guards were ordered out, and once again, he felt the sensation of something small, round and cold land in the hollow of his throat and then disappear.
The door opened a moment later. “Ritter.”
Ritter had been standing beside him, and Ethan sensed him turning.
“Captain.” He sounded annoyed. “I’m in the middle—”
“I know, but what are you up to?” The captain’s voice sounded incredulous and accusatory.
Ritter sighed. “Come talk to me in the dispensary.”
He moved away, and Ethan heard the captain step inside, and the door closed behind him, and then another door opened.
Ethan had noticed it yesterday, a narrow door at the back.
“You all right?” he whispered to Velda.
“Yes, you?”
“Same as before.” He heard voices, muted by the dispensary door, but suddenly they seemed to become clearer, and he turned his head toward the sound.
“They’re the fifth ones to get the balls, and it may be they can only be used so many times,” Ritter was saying.
“So you wore them out?” The captain sounded unconcerned.
“Maybe. I used the same ones each time, so given the results this morning, it looks like it. I’ve just given them a second one each.”
“Given what happened before, that sounds dangerous.” The captain’s voice rose a little.
“Not if the first ones are useless now. It’ll be the same as before.” Ritter didn’t sound like he cared what the captain thought.
“Fine. We’re heading for a position off Aponi, waiting for someone they’ve managed to rescue from a military prison in Demeter, and then we’re going to pinch to the black immediately.” The captain stepped out of the dispensary.
“How long until that happens?” Ritter asked. “I can’t work when we pinch.”
“Hopefully in a few hours, so be done by then.” The captain walked past the beds and out the door into the passageway.
“You’re quiet,” Ritter said, and Ethan could only guess he was speaking to him and Velda.
Neither of them answered him, and he was silent and still for a moment, then Ethan heard him wheeling the black box back into the dispensary and then stepping back into the med bay.
He called the guards back in, removed their blindfolds, and took their vitals again.
Ritter frowned in concern at the readings, and then had them taken back to the cell.
“Talk to me.” Ethan rubbed his wrists, and then pulled Velda into his arms, bending his head so his lips were near her ear. He was sure they were being monitored and he didn’t want to give Ritter anything he didn’t have to.
“I feel like I could maybe smash my way through the door,” she whispered to him. “Except I also really don’t want to be hit with laz fire.”
“Yeah.” He was feeling pretty much the same. “Whatever they’ve given us, it’s made me very allergic to getting shot.”
Not that he had ever been keen about taking a hit, but he hadn’t worried about it to this extent before.
“The first dose wasn’t worn out,” Velda whispered. “It was only pretending to be.”
Her words sent a chill down his spine. “Pretending?” That gave whatever it was some agency. Some intelligence.
“That’s what it feels like,” she said.
That’s what it felt like to him, too.
And that frightened him.