Chapter 19 - Tender and Unyielding #2
Ryker turns to take in her stance, her renewed disinterest, before coming back to me. “You don’t know her?” he asks me.
I shake my head, squinting at Tanisira. “Honestly, just thought I was gonna get some necking in. I’m really, really sorry for interrupting your... whatever this is.”
And, shit, I think we’ve managed to pull it off because he sighs and nods sharply, before pushing away from the desk. He motions to his goon, and the gun disappears. Slumping in the chair, I feel my damp neck and hairline, my heartbeat pounding furiously.
“Take her downstairs. Watch her leave.”
I jolt. What about Tan—
Tanisira steps forward, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Now that you’ve wasted everyone’s time, can we wrap this up?” Fuck, how is she able to look that nonchalant? Sound that bored?
The goon starts herding me towards the doorway.
Flesh. Trafficker. Greed.
But Ryker isn’t in the mood to cooperate. He approaches Tanisira until they’re toe to toe, getting right in her face. I watch the frisson of disgust that zips through her. Is it his proximity? Or is it this simmering loathing between them from some past I don’t know about?
“Go. To. Hell,” he says softly.
I’m only halfway out the door, neck craned, when it happens.
Tanisira’s eyes shift from his and find mine.
There’s a message there that I can’t read; I’m too shaky, too everything.
But I see her arm whip up, hear a sharp buzz, the soft exhale of a surprised breath.
Ryker tenses in front of her, then jerks.
She steps away.
He falls to his knees, moans, and hits the ground.
A Pulse Guard is nestled in the palm of her hand: a sophisticated and highly illegal taser co-opted by the military and not approved for civilian use. Both my parents used to carry one, though I was never allowed to touch it.
Whilst I stare, Tanisira leaps into action. She moves like a blur.
The goon’s grip on me loosens, and I’m shoved out of the way.
Stumbling, I catch myself on the doorframe.
Tanisira punches him hard enough to knock him into the wall, face first, and grabs the gun from his back pocket.
Before I can scream or cry or even blink, she whacks him on the head with it, and he crumples. The whole thing happened in seconds.
She rushes to the desk, picks up one of two packages and shoves it into her bag. Then she hurries over to where I’m still frozen in place and grabs my arm. “Quickly. They won’t be down for long.”
I have a thousand questions, but I’m an observer in my own body, and I run with her instead, taking the stairs at a dangerous speed and exiting the building through a camouflaged side door.
The night swallows us as we flee. We pace through the streets, and it’s clear that my fitness level is severely subpar to Tanisira’s.
Her breathing’s even whilst I heave away, my lungs burning.
If the plan is to run all the way back to the hub, to the ship, I’ll drop dead way before then.
She drags me into an alley just when my wheezing gets really bad.
The Tower arches over the surrounding roofs, and Tanisira takes me down a series of narrow side streets, ending at a dimly lit gate.
It leads into a small courtyard filled with overflowing bins.
My every breath is explosive, and my legs cramp.
Alarmingly, my vision starts to waver at the edges. Oh, Fuck.
“Tan—”
“I know,” she grits out.
She leads me by the hand into the back of the building.
It turns out to be The Tower’s kitchen, where the staff stare at us but don’t look particularly surprised.
One of them nods towards a corridor, and Tanisira heads for it.
She’s practically dragging me at this point, supporting most of my weight.
I can’t spare the oxygen to be embarrassed.
The second we come to a stop, I collapse against a wall.
Hands settle on my back, moving in slow and sweeping arcs, and I can’t muster the energy to shove them off.
The wall provides support as I slide down it and drop my head between my knees, overcome with nausea. Tanisira moves away and starts to pace.
Sometime later, I lift my head. We’re in what appears to be the staff room.
The white walls are plastered with posters, and two sinks stand against one end, a long line of lockers against another.
Older appliances look a little worse for wear.
It smells like tomato soup and cologne, an aroma that doesn’t help my stomach one bit.
A hamper of chef’s whites is tucked into a corner.
The pile of stained clothes makes me feel icky.
When Tanisira collects a bundle and holds it out to me, I almost throw up right then and there. I’m suddenly overcome with bone-deep exhaustion. I glare at her.
“What am I meant to do with this?”
“Put it on, Marlowe.”
Her tone gets my back up, and I narrow my eyes. “Are you gonna explain what the fuck just happened?”
She drags her hands over her face, a little pale. “Back at the ship. Put those on.” When I open my mouth to protest, she fixes me with a glare of her own. “Now.”
I’m not shy at the best of times, and right now, I don’t care who might walk in. The full body ache makes it difficult to get my clothes off, but Tanisira, thankfully, doesn’t so much as twitch in my direction. I cross my arms when I’m done, feeling a little woozy.
She gives me a swift once-over and then nods her approval.
“This is going to sound convoluted, and I’m sorry, it is.
We need to head back to the Midas separately.
You’ll go first, back out the way we entered, and meet me at Lunar Plaza.
Head straight there, don’t stop for anything and try to look casual. ”
I gape. “You made such a big deal about me not leaving the hub, and you’re sending me out there alone? After what just happened?”
“I’ll be right behind you, and someone else will be watching. You’ll be safe.”
A buzzing distracts me. When I pull out my slate, she’s sent me a location. I swipe it open and frown at the proposed pin in proximity to our location.
“This isn’t the nearest station. I can see that there’s a closer one; wouldn’t it make more sense to go there?”
But Tanisira’s shaking her head before I finish and darts an agitated look at me. “If anyone is on us—and there definitely will be—they’ll expect us to go to Nova Platform. It’s not worth the risk. Can you—” She stops, exhales deeply. “Can you please just trust me on this?”
Flesh. Trafficker. Greed.
I take a step away from her before I realise I’m doing it. Then I take my cap off and shove it in the bag, to give me something to do, so I don’t have to look at her pained expression.
Tanisira walks me to the courtyard and repeats her instructions, stressing that I keep my head down. As I walk away, the back of my neck tingles exactly where the gun barrel had been placed.
I shudder and wrap my arms around myself.
Thoughts of knives and guns try to catch me out, but I glance around, surveying my surroundings for distractions as I hustle.
It’s probably the only reason I see a shadow peel away from a nearby wall and disappear somewhere my vision can’t follow.
My skin erupts into goosebumps. I falter, head whipping back and forth, but the figure has vanished like it was never there in the first place.
Tanisira did say someone would be watching.
Following the various signs to Lunar Plaza is easy.
What’s not easy is actively trying to keep my shit together until I get there.
I think I’m one more surprise away from losing my mind.
But I march on, keeping my head down, trying to give off the impression that I know where I’m going and I belong here.
My slate feels heavy in my pocket, but I can’t take it out, even though it calls to me with the promise of civility.
After all, I could message Vee or call Beau for an update, and neither one of them would come back at me with a saviour complex, a secret life, or possible crimes committed against humanity.
It’s so ridiculous that it’s laughable. It’s also so fucking tragic I could scream.
Lunar Plaza stands inside the inner boundary of Novus Junction, and that’s reflected in the money that was poured into it.
A multi-storied atrium is surrounded by platforms at different levels, connected by moving lev walkways that make it look like people are floating in mid-air.
It’s big, bright, and, at this time of night, still bustling.
Then again, I suppose the hour never matters on a waystation that never sleeps.
I’m just glad to see two guards in uniform patrolling on both floors.
I can’t even conjure fear about getting on one of those walkways; I’m just so angry.
There’s a possibility that the adrenaline burn-off, over-exertion, and emotional fuckery are contributing to how savage I feel.
I ache from head to toe. A headache pulses behind my eyes.
The only way I can stop my hands from shaking is by pressing them together so hard they bleed white.
Despite the comfortable ambient temperature of the station, I’m inexplicably cold.
But underneath all of that is a roiling, seething heat that I can see but can’t reach.
It wants out, and I’m not sure my body could handle it.
I could leave right now and get on a train without Tanisira, except I have no idea where the ship’s docked.
I also don’t want to be the one responsible for getting my broken body back there.
It was horrible being found on the med bay floor the last time I stupidly pushed myself too far—I’m not going to do that again.
Sighing, I blink some life into my heavy eyes, nab my hat and yank it on.
I can at least stay inconspicuous whilst I wait.
The plaza isn’t as busy as the central hub, the visibility much better, but that works against me right now.
As I sink onto a padded bench, I catch sight of a familiar face.
I inhale sharply and freeze in place. The woman from the hotel stands in the middle of the atrium, amongst all the transient passengers, and stares straight at me.
Samiran. Has to be. The pure beauty of her strikes me again, followed by the observation that she looks exactly like Tanisira in this getup.
She tilts her head and smiles. Then she’s gone. I’m halfway out of my seat when the familiar scent of pomegranate, lavender, and vanilla washes over me. A second later, a hand cups my shoulder. It dawns on me.
I whirl around. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Tanisira rears back and snatches her hand before I can slap it away. There’s a brief moment where I recognise the fatigue etched into her, but I’m too mad to stop.
“You’re something else, you know that, Myth?” I spit.
She flinches. But then she grits her teeth and steps closer, glancing around even as she catches my waist in a grip both tender and unyielding. She draws me close and lowers her voice.
“We have to go. There’s a maglev due to arrive any minute for our docking port. We need to be on it. You can shout at me all you want once we’re back on the ship.”
I hesitate, leaning away to stare up into those lidded eyes. She looks sad. The usual defences in her expression have dropped. My fingers twitch with an urge to touch her; out of kindness, out of affection. My heart twists. I can’t stop thinking about the shitstorm that was today.
“Count on it,” I say, pulling away from her. I feel scraped to the bone by the things I’ve learned today, and though I want to hear her side, I fear nothing can be the same again.
We stare at each other.
Wordlessly, she turns for the nearest walkway. As much as I don’t like having my anger scheduled, I see the way Tanisira glances over her shoulder every few seconds. We’re not safe yet, so I tamp it all down, down, down.
She gets us to the correct platform just in time to catch the train back to the Midas.
I stare out the window the whole journey.
Flesh. Trafficker. Greed.