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“Yes. Nobody was caught.”
“They’re increasing the frequency.”
“I think they’re looking for their own. Not us. There was a korabi soldier who almost got caught.”
“Could have been a spy.”
“I don’t think so. He was terrified of being caught.”
“Might have been acting.”
“I don’t think so. He was grateful for being rescued.”
“You rescued him, did you. Taking home stray korabi, now?”
“I let him use the outer tunnel. Nothing more.”
“So that’ll have to be decommissioned. Can’t have the korabi knowing our tunnels.”
“Sure,” I say. “Good idea.”
It’s not a good idea. It’s also not going to happen. I let Wuld tell me what to do, and then I do whatever I feel like doing. It’s a flawless system that has worked for us for several years now.
* * *
Back to the present…
Rath
She looks at me, and I see all the misery of memory in her eyes. Maybe Tyvian was right. Maybe this was all so much crueler than it needed to be. She could have forgotten forever. I could have let her slip into a deep, dark eternal sleep, blissfully unaware of her own passing. That might have been kinder than what is happening now.
“I’m scum.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m the scummiest scum that ever was. Did I actually kill your king, then?”
“It’s a bit more complex than that, but yes. You were involved.”
“And you got in trouble for it. You were in the memory. You were in the market, talking to me, and then you ran from the raid. You came through the tunnels with me… but how did you let me get away with killing the king?”
“I owed you one,” he says.
“You owed me one enough to let me get away with murdering your king?”
“I owed you one,” he repeats himself as if that is explanatory.
“But you’ve been murdering humans for months now. You hate us. So what…”
“It’s complicated.”
“Just tell me, Rath.”
He doesn’t bother to tell me he’s not going to tell me. He stays silent and keeps massaging me. He’s happy; I am remembering, but also not that happy. Something dark is lurking in my mind, something neither of us really wants to come out, but which has to.
“Get some sleep,” Rath says, tucking me into bed. “I’ve told Tyvian to keep a close eye on this room. If you remember, and you wake up, he’ll be here.”
“What are you so scared I’m going to remember?”
“The truth.”
Thirteen
Remembered
Another memory…
I am skulking between buildings, keeping away from the drones which patrol the areas. It has become second nature to me over years of surviving in Megaris. This is a scavenging run. I can see Taddy, Henry, and Frenchie making their way across the other side of the street. We are all wearing rough augs, something like what the elite wear, but far more functional. Ours are made by Jazz, and they overlay the observational feed of the drones across the ground. Anything red is a no go. Anything green is safe. The zones shift constantly. We move between them, standing still for minutes at a time, then dashing forward suddenly to reach another safe spot. The packs on our backs are stuffed full of the little pieces of debris we have managed to collect. We will take them back home to the den, where they will be recycled into useful goods.
A hand grabs me. I shriek in fear. My senses have been on high alert ever since we hit the streets. As much as the augs help, they are not foolproof. They can, and have failed. And there are always physical korabi patrols to worry about.
I am spun to face a korabi soldier, wearing the uniform of a royal guard. He is tall and he is purple, and I know him. It is Rath.
“You scared me!”
Rath flashes his teeth at me. Sharp and long and terrifying. Just like him. “I think you like to be scared.”
“Do you? Why’s that?”
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head,” he says. “I couldn’t figure out why you’d help me, a stranger. And then I worked it out. You like danger. You court it.”
He leans in, pressing his massive korabi thigh between my legs, the dark shroud of his hair making for a sleek prison. “There’s nothing more dangerous than me, Lyric.”
He’s right.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Royal Korabi guardsman?”
I breathe the question up at him, knowing I am throwing caution to the wind and feeling a fresh flush of desire. I’ve been teased for saving him for the last week. Some of the jibes have been good-natured. Others have not. I don’t care what other people think. We are scum, and we have to take advantage of good times where we can find them.
This guy feels like a good time.
“Am I succeeding?” he murmurs the question in a soft growl, turning me and pinning me back against a wall just as a drone passes by. My augs go red, but it doesn’t matter because this handsome, reckless stranger is blocking the searching drone’s line of sight.
