Chapter Thirty-Three
HANA
I run at full speed to the beta ring, There’s a hallway of darkened blue only a few feet away. Finally, a safe zone where Cyclo can’t contact me.
I have to get this suit off. There are drips of contaminated material on the fabric. I’m sweating from the hot, confining suit and from sheer panic. I know I’ve absorbed radiation.
What’s the point of flying away in the Selkirk if I die of radiation poisoning? I unzip and kick away the suit, stepping out of it barefoot. My hands grasp the helmet, and I see Fenn staring back at me in the video comm.
“Hana. Run. Cyclo knows you’re there. Get into a dead zone with the boules as fast as you can.”
I put my hands on the hover container, ready to push it at a run, when I jerk forward.
No.
Around me, the walls and floor have started pulsating between the islands of beige scar tissue. With each subsequent pulsation, they go from pale blue, to deep blue, to purple, and then red.
The color of Cyclo’s rage.
My legs are fully encased now, and the container with the boules is harshly jerked out of my hands. It floats on an undulating river of greenish-blue matrix before tipping over. In slow motion, the boules spill out and float farther and farther away from me. Our only chance at leaving Cyclo has been torn from me. From us.
“Hana! I’m coming!” Fenn yells, the last thing I hear before Cyclo pulls away the helmet and any contact I have with Fenn.
“No! Fenn! Fenn!” I scream, lunging to grasp it as it’s pulled away. The matrix flows up and around my torso, under my clothes. It’s so jarring, the varying degrees of icy cold and burning hot temperatures against my skin, because Cyclo’s self-regulation has gone awry. A thousand thoughts burst into my brain. I am never going to see him again. This is what it’s like when your heart breaks. Cyclo will tear him apart. I cannot bear the breaking of us.
But all I can manage is to scream his name, over and over again.
Cyclo tries to silence me. Wave after wave of chemicals are pushed into my skin, trying to force me into docility, but I’m fighting so hard. I kick. I scream. I am the girl that will not submit. Enough of my body is submerged in her matrix that I can hear her voice in my head.
Stay with me
Stay with me
My sweet Hana
Stay with me
It’s a song that’s almost a lullaby, one that Mother never sang to me. One that Cyclo never sang, either, but really has been the only truth that she’s ever told, the only truth she’s held while she’s been dying. She wants me all to herself. My eyes close as I sink into Cyclo’s generous, formless arms. I should have known it would end like this. I should have saved these last moments for Fenn, instead of trying to figure out how to leave Cyclo.
A moment in time isn’t a static point in space. It is infinite if you look close enough. And I could have had a thousand infinities with Fenn. If only I could do it all over again.
My body is getting tired, or weak, or numbed; I’m not sure what. Cyclo can only have so many chemical restraints to use on me, but she’s buffing every last molecule of sedative into me because she won’t lose me again. Faintly, there is a jarring sensation, as if my entire world has been shaken hard, rent and throttled. But it goes away. My ears buzz; my ability to hear is disappearing, and I can no longer feel anything below my knees, beyond my elbows. I hear a yell from far, far away. A memory, perhaps.
Hana. Fight.
Hana. I’m coming for you.
I try to shake my head, but Cyclo has already made a pillow for it, and the gel is rising near my cheeks, ready to envelop my face. There is a stinging feeling, and a pull against my neck. Cyclo has removed my biomonitor. Through a layer of gel around my ears, I hear the voice again. As I forcefully rouse myself back into consciousness, the sound becomes clearer, even with the muffling gel.
Hana.
HANA.
“Hana! It’s me. Fight, fight Hana! I’m coming for you!”
But it isn’t Fenn’s voice speaking.