Landfall (The Reach, Book 2) (28 page)

“Okay,” Knile said, placated.  “I understand.”

Emil stepped up to Talia and drew a curtain around the table, hiding them both from view.  Knile could vaguely see their outlines through the thin material of the curtain as Emil began to conduct his examination.

“What did Mattus have to say?” Knile said to Roman as they waited.

“He seems excited,” Roman said.  “He said Skybreach is getting pretty close to its goal.  Seems as though we came along at the right time.”

“It’s about time we caught a break, right?”

“Yeah.”  Roman gestured toward the curtain.  “So what do you think this guy is going to have you doing?”

“I assume he’ll want detailed analysis on the Reach.  I’d imagine he’s already done much of that if he’s nearing the end of his plan, but I’m sure I can fill in some of the gaps for him.  Tell him some things he doesn’t know.”

Roman began to relate more of his discussion with Mattus, but he hadn’t gotten very far before Emil drew back the curtain and ushered Talia away from the table.

“Wait outside, please,” he said to her, moving over and handing the technician a small vial of blood.  The technician took it and inserted it into the machine, then turned a dial and punched a sequence of keys.  The machine
began to hum and vibrate softly.

“Roman, why don’t you come next?” Emil said, holding out his arm invitingly.  Roman did as he was told, walking over and climbing on the table as Emil drew the curtain across once more.

Knile glanced back through the perspex to where Talia was standing in the corridor, pulling on her lip with a worried expression on her face.  Her hand dropped away from her face as she realised Knile was looking at her, and she adopted a relaxed smile that Knile thought seemed a little forced.

Did it hurt
? Knile mouthed silently with exaggerated movements of his mouth.

She gave him a quizzical look. 
What?
she mouthed back.

Did it hurt?

She laughed and shook her head, rubbing at the tiny mark on her arm.

You’ll be fine
, she mouthed.

The technician’s machine ceased its vibrations and then played a single musical note.  Lines of information began to fill its display screen, and the technician bent over and began to pore over it earnestly.  Knile craned his neck but could not see what was written there.

It seemed only a few moments had passed before Emil was opening the curtain once more and showing Roman out the door.

“Now for you,” he said to Knile.  As Knile passed, the technician stepped close to Emil and murmured something in his ear.

“Very good,” Emil said in return, handing him the vial of Roman’s blood.  “Now check this one, please.”  Then he stepped inside the curtain and yanked it across with a curt motion.

“Everything okay?” Knile said.

“Fine,” Emil assured him.  He wrapped a device around Knile’s bicep and began to take readings on blood pressure.  “I really don’t expect to find any problems with the three of you.  You’re all young, so age isn’t a problem.  You look hale and hearty, and normally I would expect to see physical signs if there were raised levels of toxins in your system – yellowed skin, abdominal swelling and pain, shortness of breath.  That kind of thing.”

“I haven’t had any of that.”

“No, I expect not.  The physical exam is merely part of our initiation procedure.  Everyone goes through it.  As I said, we don’t want any surprises here.  If there’s any problems, we want to know about them straight away.”

“So have you turned anyone away because of health issues?”

“It does happen from time to time,” Emil admitted, sticking a device in Knile’s ear.  After a moment he drew it out again.  “There have been heart conditions here and there, cancer.  It breaks my heart to cast newcomers out, especially after I’ve gone to so much effort to bring them here, but the rules are there for a reason.  We’re not going to drag sick people halfway across the solar system just to
have them
die when we reach our destination.”  He took a syringe and pressed the needle against Knile’s inner elbow.  “Hold still, please.”

The needle bit into his skin, making him wince, and he watched as Emil drew a small measure of
crimson fluid into the vial.  It was over quickly, and then Emil drew back again and prepared to conduct the next test.

Before he could do that, the curtain rustled and the technician’s head appeared around the side.

“A word, Mr. Baranek,” he said urgently.

“What’s the problem?” Knile said, getting up from the bed.

“Wait here, Knile,” Emil said, easing him back into place.  “Just a moment.”

He disappeared outside the curtain and Knile waited only a second or two before getting up.  This could only be bad news.  He drew the curtain back, searching frantically for Roman and
Talia and fearing the worst, but they were standing out in the corridor chatting and smiling, blissfully unaware that anything was wrong.

What was going on here?

Knile stepped outside the curtain but Emil appeared at his side, stopping him from moving any further.  The scarred man gripped his arm, his eyes intent.

“Did you know about the boy?” he whispered hoarsely.

Knile stared at him, uncomprehending.  “What’s going on?  What’s the matter?”

“That boy of yours.  Roman.”  Emil glanced out through the perspex to ensure that they weren’t being overheard.  “He’s been poisoned.”

“What?” Knile gasped.

“Knile, he’s dying.”

27

Duran took another mouthful of the grey mush and then dumped the tin plate back on the table, wincing as he swallowed it down.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then clutched at a cup of water and tried to wash the rest of the mush down his throat in the quickest possible fashion.

Robson watched him from across the room where he was perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, happily slurping down his own plate of the gruel.

“Pretty good, huh?” Robson said.

Duran grimaced.  “That isn’t exactly the way I’d describe it.”

Robson seemed genuinely shocked and disappointed.  “Really?”  He paused, a spoonful of the stuff halfway to his mouth.  It quivered on his spoon as he stared at it.  “But this is my own recipe.  I’ve spent years perfecting it.”

“Sorry,” Duran said, shrugging.  “I’ve eaten cockroach husks that taste better than this.”

Robson jammed the spoonful into his mouth indignantly.

“I highly doubt that,” he said from the corner of his mouth as he chewed.

“What’s in it, anyway?”

“Only the best stuff.  I start off
by finely toasting some finest-grade oats, and then I blend in a combination of zucchini, carrots and herbs that I buy from an old lady up on Seventy-T
hree.  She’s amazing.  I don’t even know where she gets her stuff, but I wouldn’t buy from anyone else.”

“If she’s so amazing, how do you end up with something that tastes so bad?”

“It’s the basil,” Robson enthused, oblivious to Duran’s mocking tone.  “If you add it in just the right quantities, it comes out perfect.”

Duran pushed the plate further across the table.  “Maybe I can have my drip put back in so I don’t have to eat this stuff.”

“No way.  It’s great to see you eating solids again.  And that gauze is doing wonders, too.”

Duran pushed back his shirt and examined the dressings on his shoulder.  The pain had lessened significantly in the past forty-eight hours, and now he could manipulate his arm much more freely.

“What’s with the gauze?”

“It’s a military-
grade dressing,” Robson explained.  “Speeds up the healing process by up to five times, if you believe what it says on the packaging.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Somewhere around the place.”  Robson seemed to consider.  “Don’t remember exactly where.  We’re always collecting bits and bobs.  I think Jonz might have found them stashed away somewhere up in Lux.”

“Jonz?”

“Oh,” Robson said, scraping the last of the mush from his plate, “he was one of our old operatives.”  He smiled fondly.  “I always liked him.  Down to earth, y’know?”

“What happened to him?”

“Killed while he was on a mission,” Robson said in a matter-of-fact way.  “It happens.”

“You don’t seem too cut up about it.”

“Like I said, I liked the guy.  You just can’t get too attached to people around here.  Things can go bad.”  Robson put his plate down and smacked his lips.  “Anyway, enough of that.  We need to come up with a callsign for you, Duran.”

“Huh?”

“A callsign.  Y’know, like I’m ‘Switch’.  Zoe is ‘Songbird’.”  He leaned forward excitedly.  “What are you going to be?”

“Duran.”

Robson laughed.  “You can’t use that.  What if someone is listening to our call?”

“Then they’ll probably use vocal analysis to fingerprint my voice, no matter what dumb callsign I use.”

“I’ve got one,” Robson went on, ignoring him.  He spread his hands wide in a theatrical gesture.  “How about ‘Blade’?”

“No.”

“‘Dagger’?”

“What’s with you and knives?  Scimitar, blade and dagger?  I’m noticing a pattern here.”

Robson seemed taken aback.  “They sound cool.”

Duran considered.  “How about ‘Butterknife’
, then?”

Robson looked at him quizzically.  “You can’t use that.  That’s stupid.  Too non-threatening.”

“I’m going with it.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Try it out,” Duran said, giving him an inviting wave.  “Say
you’re closing in on the target, Butterknife
.”

Robson stood straight and indignant.  “Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously–”

Zoe padded in, barefoot, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands, and Robson fell silent.

“Not taking
what
seriously?” she said, glancing between the two of them.

“Just a disagreement about callsigns,” Duran said, smirking and leaning back in his chair.

Zoe sighed.  “We’ve got more important things to worry about right now.”  She looked pointedly at Duran.  “Tunks is on the move again.”

“Finally came out of hiding, huh?” Robson said.  “Little weasel.  It was only a matter of time.”

“He was never going to stay off the streets for long,” Zoe said.  “That would raise too many suspicions among the other Enforcers.  And besides, he has routines, other poor unfortunates to shake down.  He’s too greedy to let that slip.”

“So where is he?” Duran said.

“I’ve tracked him using the elevators between the barracks and Lux over the past few hours.  He hasn’t returned to Gaslight just yet, but he will.  And when he does, we’ll be ready for him.”

Duran shifted in his chair uneasily.  “He’ll take precautions.”

“We’ll be prepared for that, too,” Zoe said.  She gave him a once-over.  “Are you ready for this?”

“I think so.”

“No,” Zoe said, her voice steely.  “We’re not going half way on this.  Are you ready or not?”

Duran had thought a lot about Tunks since the encounter in the apartment a couple of days prior.  On the one hand he despised the guy and always had.  Tunks had done nothing but needle him and put him down since the day they’d first met.  He was a bully, no question about it, and he’d resented that Duran had climbed the ranks more adeptly than he had.  Now, in addition to that, it wa
s clear that he was also a cold-blooded murderer and a thief, no better than half the common thugs Duran had sent to the Cellar or the morgue over the years.

Zoe had shown him footage of Tunks over the past year, visiting many other people in Gaslight and shaking them down for creds and sometimes killing them when he didn’t get his way.  That left Duran in no doubt that he was a monster.

But there was something still nagging at Duran, a fear that he was about to start down a slippery slope from which there would be no return.  Today he might be killing a lowlife who deserved to be put down like a dog, but what about tomorrow?  Who would he be targeting, and how would he know that they deserved it?

He didn’t know the answer to that question.  All he knew right now was that Sergeant Tunks needed to be stopped before more innocent people died.  That much he could be certain about, at least.

“Yeah,” Duran said firmly.  “I’m ready.”

Zoe nodded.  “Good.”  She stepped forward and adjusted his shirt to take a look at his wound.  “This feeling better?” she said.

“Starting to, yeah.”

She undid the top two buttons on his shirt and pulled at the edge of the bandages.

“These need changing,” she announced.  “Robson, I just checked the medical store and there’s none of the gauze left.”

“There should be a box down in general,” Robson said.  “I’ll go take a look.”