Chapter 4 #3
‘What link?’ I ask, my mind randomly alighting on this piece of weird information among the sea of weird information that my brain is currently trying to process.
‘Really, Julian?’ Allen says.
‘Do you think I didn’t notice the communication thingy you were doing with her in the treatment room?’ Julian says.
‘I thought you were too distracted by Chrissy to notice anything,’ Allen replies.
Julian nods, then sighs. ‘On the bright side, at least Chrissy didn’t end up on our team.’
‘Sure,’ Xandra says sarcastically. ‘We didn’t get the best Healer Apprentice. We got the worst. I do see the silver lining.’
Another Commander is now droning on, calling names.
Mace has fallen quiet again.
‘Knock it off, guys,’ Allen says. ‘You’re making Ellie uncomfortable. And for what? She doesn’t have more choice in this than we do. Welcome to the team, Ellie. I’m pleased you’re with us.’ He pats the pockets of his dark blue jacket. ‘I’m all set. Do you have the beans with you?’
There’s something conspiratorial in his tone.
Mace rubs the stubble on his jaw. ‘Shit.’
Allen tuts. ‘What did I tell you, just yesterday? What did I tell you?’
‘If I may have your attention?’ Commander Sellick says in a voice that isn’t really asking. ‘The teams are complete. You have been set similar tasks throughout your missions, but the order in which you’ll complete them may vary. Good luck. See you back at The Citadel in two to four weeks.’
My stomach bottoms out and the floor gives way underneath my feet, and I’d be tempted to think of that as an aftereffect of the Commander’s words, if I wasn’t physically free falling.
I knock into a large body and a sort of spongy cushion – I’m not sure in which order – and then begin falling down what seems to be a huge slide.
The metal bites into the fabric of my jumpsuit, and after a slight slip burn on my elbow, I have the presence of spirit to sit up, to avoid touching the bare skin of my arms to the slide.
The lighting is dim and it’s cold and I curse myself for not taking a coat with me.
I’m pretty sure that the mission has begun, that there’s no knowing when we’ll be able to find different clothing, and I’m increasingly aware of what sort of shoes I’m wearing for a mission set outside of The Citadel.
I curse the evil minds that set up things this way for the mission.
One of my teammates is sliding ahead of me, but I can’t make up much of his large shape in the semi-darkness, except for the fact that he’s leaning back with his arms close to his body, resembling a human bobsleigh.
He gains speed, while I’m desperately trying to slow down, instead of accelerating.
I assume the others are ahead of me.
Way to go, Ellie. I’ll make such a great first impression by coming in last. But I can’t persuade my brain to find a way to go faster, especially since I’m trying to keep my shoes off the slide, so that the delicate golden leather won’t get scratched.
The slide goes on and on and on, and I’m sure I’m deep in the entrails of The Citadel, maybe down a laundry chute. I’m examining how I feel about the thought of landing onto a mountain of soft but smelling clothing and decide that I’m on the fence about that idea.
I don’t even have a Pocket Healer with me – I never, ever thought that I’d be sent on a Test Mission. How on Earth did Central Command come to the conclusion that I’d be a good fit for Team Gold? And didn’t Stella know that this was about to happen?
She could have given me a tiny heads-up. Maybe a little clue.
But she did. Last week, when she insisted on physical training after I was sent to do Field Healing Simulation. My shield did come in handy when Central Command turned on those force fields.
The slide ends abruptly. I’m in the air for the blink of an eye, and then start rolling on the hard, dusty ground.
I stop by clashing into someone’s legs. Strong hands lift me up and as I find my footing I realise they belong to Mace. Again.
‘Thanks,’ I mutter, uselessly trying to dust my jumpsuit off, noticing there’s also something oily on it, something that clings to the fabric.
‘What is this?’ I ask, looking around.
We’re in a wider room with a high ceiling. The walls are sheets of grey metal. There’s no furniture, no symbol that might help us determine the purpose of this area. There are, however, at least three openings in the walls – aside from the slide we came down on – leading to different tunnels.
Mace shrugs. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’ He steps to the side of the slide, carefully looking up. ‘Xandra! Julian! Allen!’ he calls upwards. His voice echoes off the walls and into the tunnels, but there’s no answer from above.
As the seconds tick by, the certainty sinks into my bones, and Mace looks at least as concerned as I’m beginning to feel.
I’m increasingly aware that we’re alone.
Just the two of us. And I don’t know what to say to him.
Unwelcome butterflies are exploding again in my belly.
Years of building up to this, and I don’t know what to say.
‘Brilliant,’ Mace says, rubbing the stubble on his chin. ‘It seems like we got separated from everyone else.’