Chapter Twenty
Leda woke in a dark room with a sore head and the bitter feeling of having made a terrible decision. Memories of the previous day flashed in her mind like a blinking beacon, reminders of her stupidity. Reckless, her mom would have said. Thinking about her mom caused a lightning bolt of fury to strike in her brain.
It took Leda a full five minutes to haul herself into a sitting position and look around. The room was a small rectangle with enough space for a single bed against the far wall. Across from the bed were a number of faint white glowing lines that crackled and danced, though they made no sound. The three walls and ceiling were all a cold, hard metal. It could have been steel. But Aurelis might not have the same metals as Earth.
She looked down and saw she had on a bland gray shirt and jacket, and matching bottoms. On her feet were a pair of boots that reached above her ankles, with no laces. The getup had a distinctly military feel to it. Leda shuddered. Someone had removed her gown and dressed her, while she was asleep. They could have done anything to her, and she wouldn’t have been able to fight back.
The thought made her angrier than the fact that she’d been abducted from Equinox the moment Rika completed her surgery and brought her back from the dead. At least Tuva had kept her word and left Equinox and her crew in one piece.
Leda stood on overcooked spaghetti legs and walked a few steps, using the walls for support. She doubted Tuva and her guards thought to bring her crutches from Equinox, which meant less exercise than usual. The numbness in her lower legs was getting worse—soon she’d only be able to walk with her crutches, until she couldn’t walk at all. She closed her eyes and hoped the surgery hadn’t expedited her need for a wheelchair.
It was your decision, you knew this might happen. It was, and she’d live with the consequences. But not from in here.
Find a way out.
That’s what she’d do in a game. She’d discover a flaw and escape the cell. Save the day.
Better get started.
She moved to the front of the cell. A sheer pane of light covered the entire opening. When she blew on it, the light fluctuated. Whoa. Some kind of electricity, or the Aurelite alternative. She wasn’t stupid enough to stick her hand in the light. For all she knew, she’d lose a hand or end up unconscious again—and neither of those sounded like a good idea.
She peered through the lights and waited for the hall outside of her cell to come into focus. It was fuzzy at first, but she made out the shape of a man sitting on a chair, his body still except for his chest, rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. The rest of the hall was too dark to see anything else.
She had to escape somehow, though. Disabling the lights was her main objective now, and she scoured her cell for answers. A panel, a wire, something. After a few minutes of hobbling back and forth along one wall, she took a break on the bed, needing to catch her breath and reserve her strength.
She needed every ounce of it to escape Tuva’s ship and find her way to Aurelis.
They came for her in the morning.
A beeping sound chirped and the guard outside her cell stirred, then he jerked to his feet. Shuffling sounds reached Leda’s ears in the dark. A second later, the lights came on overhead. They were so bright that she had to blink as her eyes adjusted to the change.
With the lights on, she saw a panel above the bed. A quick run of calculation in her head, and she determined she could just reach it if she stood on the bed and stretched her arms up. A task she didn’t think very wise so soon after surgery—even if she was a fast-healing Aurelite, instead of a plain old human.
I’d give anything to be human and bored on a tiny Arctic island right now.
A second guard entered the brig carrying a tray with a clear cover. He stood at the front of the cell and clicked a button on the device hooked to his belt. A section of the electric wall dropped away. Thin brows arched over his narrow black eyes, and his teeth made him look like a rat. He stepped inside. Leda stumbled back. He seemed smaller on the other side of the barrier.
“Breakfast.” He held the tray out.
So it was morning, according to these people. Difficult to tell day and night in the blackness of space. She accepted the tray and Rat Face exited the cell. When he stood on the other side, he clicked the button, and the barrier went back up. Rat Face gave her a slimy grin before he turned to the other guard and relieved him.
Her stomach rumbled, but nothing on the tray looked edible. An assortment of gray cubes that jiggled like gelatin and smelled less than appetizing.
She poked a gray cube. “Is there meat?”
Rat Face gave her a blank stare.
“I don’t eat meat, or anything that came from an animal.”
“We have no animals on board.”
She sighed and hobbled back to the bed to sit. “Okay, maybe a better question is, what is this stuff?”
“Nutrient-dense meal supplements,” he said, his voice as wooden as his posture.
“And what’s it made of?”
Rat Face shrugged and took the chair the previous guard had vacated. He crossed his thick arms and leaned back, watching her. “Eat, or don’t eat. Doesn’t bother me. Tuva won’t be very happy with you if you don’t, though.”
She eyed the tray suspiciously, but in the end, hunger won out. And the fear of Tuva’s repercussions. She picked the sludge first. Nothing else on the tray looked as revolting, and common sense taught her the most disgusting-looking things often tasted the worst. On the tray was a set of plastic cutlery—a fork with rounded tips and a spoon, no knife—a napkin, and a small bottle of clear liquid she hoped contained water.
She took a tentative scoop of the sludge. Half of the scoop slipped off the spoon and landed with a splat. Grease covered the spoon. Holding back a gag, Leda forced the rest of the spoonful into her mouth. At first taste, she spat the sludge out on the floor. It tasted like rotten pineapple and yogurt, mixed with dirt and hairs. Fuzzy and sour and curdled.
She tossed the spoon onto the tray. “What the hell is that stuff?”
Rat Face chuckled, his arms shaking on his chest. “I told her you wouldn’t like that stuff. It’s called níjiāng, and it’s her national dish.”
“This is Aurelis’s national dish?”
Rat Face snorted. He dropped his hands to his knees and leaned forward. “Not all of us believe the way the planet’s run is the right way. Before they called the entire planet Aurelis, it was just one country among many. Like your Earth.”
She opened the bottle and downed the drink inside, grateful for something to wash out the taste in her mouth. She didn’t know if it was water, but it had a sweet taste to it, like nectar. “How do you know about Earth?”
“Most people on Aurelis know about it. We did have a hand in creating many of your planet’s early cultures.”
For a man with a build like a wrestler and a rodent-like face full of scars, he seemed rather intelligent. “So that show about ancient aliens wasn’t bluffing.”
Another blank stare.
She smirked. “Back on Earth, people actually believe that aliens have been visiting us for thousands of years, pretending to be gods and stuff.”
Rat Face shrugged. “Believe me, don’t believe me. I don’t care. But you’ll see what I mean when we get to where we’re going.”
Leda set the tray down on the floor, unwilling to try the cubes. “Where are we going?”
He shrugged again. “If I were you, I’d focus less on causing trouble and more on doing what you’re told.”
“You told me to eat. I tried, honestly, I did. It was, hands down, the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. Total death to my taste buds. I can’t even attempt to put another spoonful of that stuff anywhere near my mouth.” She frowned, scraping her tongue with her teeth. “I can still feel it, like a rotten, furry carpet in my mouth.”
Leda heard Tuva before she saw her, that annoying click, click, click of heels on a hard surface. She wore black again, a cat suit with a teardrop hole showcasing her ample chest, cinched at her narrow waist. And those boots. Like spikes. How can she even walk in those?
“Hamit,” Tuva said to the guard. “Open the cell and bring our guest to the prepared room.” To Leda, she said, “I hope you’ve eaten.” Tuva eyed the tray. “I suppose you’re too stubborn to do as I ask. Very well.” She narrowed her eyes, an unmistakable lift to her scowling lips. “You’ll wish you had eaten something before I’m finished with you.”
Fear closed icy fingers around Leda’s arms. She backed up on the bed until her back hit the wall. “What are you going to do?”
Tuva tapped the toe of her boot on the ground, her lips curling. “I wouldn’t want to give away the surprise.” Tuva motioned for Hamit to open the cell, and a second later, the white glow vanished.
When Leda didn’t move, Tuva jerked her head at Hamit, who sighed as he stepped into the cell and grabbed Leda roughly by the arm. His grip tightened and he pulled her up.
This is where, if I had a normal spine, I’d do some super sweet roundhouse kick, take out the guard, steal his weapon, and zap the evil witch, then make my escape.
But life wasn’t a video game, and she had to use her brains. Wait for the right opportunity. She hoped she’d find it before it was too late.
Hamit released her arm and held out a hand to the open cell. Leda didn’t move. “Why aren’t you walking?”
“I think I’ve exhausted my energy supply for the time being.”
Tuva and Hamit stared at her with matching confused expressions.
In as few words as possible, she explained her need for crutches. They didn’t seem convinced. “Don’t you have things like spina bifida on Aurelis?”
Tuva huffed. “We have a lot of corruption, but I’ve never heard of this ‘spinal bifida’ thing.” She took a device like Hamit’s from her belt and held it in front of her mouth. “Yulin, come in.”
A male voice answered: “Yes?”
“When you ran a scan of Equinox, were there things called ‘crutches’ on board?”
A moment of silence. “Crutches—an Earth term used to define a pair of sticks either used under the arm or banded around the arm and the user grips handles. The latter are referred to as forearm crutches and are used in conjunction with a disability, such as chronic pain, spina bifida, fibromyalgia—”
“I get it, Yulin.” Tuva shut her eyes for a minute, massaging her temples, and Leda wondered how the guy knew all that. Did they have some kind of extraterrestrial Google? When Tuva lifted her lashes, she stared a hole right between Leda’s eyes as she spoke into the device. “Were there any on Equinox?”
“One pair.”
“Thank you.” Tuva hooked the device on her belt again. “Well, Hamit. It looks like you’ll be carrying our guest around during her stay on Chandra.” She turned and took a step, then paused. “Then again, the less mobile she is, the less problems we’ll have.”
Tuva walked off, not knowing that an acid storm raged inside Leda. The first chance I get, I’ll gouge her pretty eyes out.
Hamit mumbled an apology, then flung Leda over his shoulder like a sack of flour and carried her out of the cell.
Every corridor looked the same, like on Equinox. Hamit whistled a too-cheerful tune during the short walk from the brig—one of the few ship related terms Leda remembered—to a dimly lit room. Once inside, the doors slid shut behind them, and Hamit set Leda on her feet. Now that she stood right-side up, her abdomen throbbed where Hamit’s muscular shoulder had pressed against it. She raised a hand to rub her stomach, but she dropped her hand when she saw the lone piece of furniture in the middle of the room.
The chair was like the ones in a dentist’s office, with one glaring difference: there were metal straps where the neck, arms, waist, and legs would be when a person sat in the chair. A metal table on wheels sat about a foot from the chair. Leda swallowed, her tongue turning to ash in her mouth. She’d seen these kinds of chairs in movies and games before. Never did she believe she’d come face-to-face with one.
Hamit nudged her between the shoulders, forcing Leda to take a step toward the chair. “It’ll be over soon enough,” he said. “Just try not to scream. She likes it when they scream.”
Every muscle in her body turned to ice, and Hamit had to drag Leda to the chair, where he secured the straps. Leda was so terrified she forgot to struggle until he clicked the band over her throat, holding her head in place.
“Please,” she said, her voice shaking with the rest of her body.
Hamit looked like he wanted to help her, but he shut his eyes and took a step back from the chair, standing with his hands clasped in front of him.
Tuva stepped into the room, carrying a black briefcase, which she set on the table. A second person followed her, but Leda couldn’t see their face. They clung to the shadows, hiding. But not for long.
Leda felt a familiar twinge when she saw the build and the tattoo peeking above his collar before Stein’s face came into view.