Containment

by Caryn Lix

  I examined my surroundings more carefully. Sure enough, cells lined the walls, although the doors had been propped open, torn off, or in some cases bent in on themselves so they could never close again.

  Each cell functioned as a makeshift shop or home. People glared at me from their recesses, and I realized I was staring. It reminded me powerfully of my first venture into Sanctuary’s prison level, and how the prisoners gaped at me from behind their bars. The muscles in my arms spasmed instinctively, itching to defend myself from a nonexistent threat.

  Cage glanced at me, but it was Imani who reached out to squeeze my hand, offering me a reassuring smile. We descended two levels, dodging people with every step. Claustrophobia seized me, but I resolutely ignored it, focusing on Cage and Imani flanking me, Rune’s booted feet scrambling down the stairs ahead. After two levels, Cage and I broke off from the others, and they kept going. I swallowed hard. Somehow, we’d wound up back in prison, me and Cage, fighting for survival together. What were the odds of that?

  NINETEEN

  I LEANED AGAINST THE WALL for support as the others retreated. “Setting foot on this station is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

  Cage nodded. “Well, it’s not like we had much choice. But between you and me? I don’t think this is going to work. If the Lóng gang is still here, and if they’re willing to help us, they’re probably going to demand a price we can’t pay.”

  “Unlike Alexei’s uncle?” I couldn’t help myself. I quickly summarized the conversation for Cage.

  He hesitated, his face unreadable in the shadows. Far above us, something crashed. I leaped a mile, pivoting, heart in my throat, my hand flying up to shield myself from lashing claws.

  A man shouted, followed by the unmistakable sounds of fists hitting flesh. I winced. Right. No aliens. Just people. “Okay,” I said. “This is okay. I’m okay.”

  Cage leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. “Look, Kenz, I’m not sure how to say this without pissing you off.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a great start.”

  Again, that ghost smile touched his lips, there and gone almost before I glimpsed it. “I know you’ve been around prisons most of your life, but this . . . it’s different. The kids on Sanctuary were mostly victims of circumstances. The people here are a hell of a lot more dangerous. I’ve dealt with them. I know how to deal with them. You . . .”

  “Don’t,” I said, a queasy feeling in my stomach. He was right, but I hated the reminder of my helplessness. I rolled my shoulders and drew myself to my full height. “But I’m going to have to learn. I can’t hide behind you forever, Cage. And I can take care of myself.”

  “There is not a doubt in my mind that that’s true,” he said with such conviction that, to my horror, tears welled behind my eyes. I forced them back, but I couldn’t get rid of the pleasant warmth that came with them. I’d spent so much of the last weeks doubting myself. Cage’s obvious sincerity sent a jolt right to my heart. “I just want you to be careful. There aren’t any second chances here.”

  I nodded, steeling myself. I didn’t have a lot of experiences to draw on for navigating an enclosed space full of people who would probably slit my throat as soon as look at me. But if I survived a shipful of alien creatures determined to harvest my flesh and assimilate my mind, well . . . a street gang and a Russian mob didn’t seem like much of a threat.

  “I can handle myself,” I said firmly. I hesitated a moment, then pressed on. “But you should know I haven’t changed my mind. As soon as we’re out of danger, I’m telling the others the truth.”

  He didn’t have to ask what I was talking about. “It’s a bad idea,” he said flatly.

  “Maybe, but it’s my bad idea.” I imagined the betrayal on everyone’s faces, especially Rune, my gentle, soft-spoken friend. “I can’t hide this forever. I did what I did, and I have to face up to it. I mean, I feel like they’re beginning to trust me, and . . .”

  “And you’re determined to break that trust.”

  My head shot up, my eyes locking with his. “No, to earn it. What’s this really about, Cage? Are you worried about the others trusting me? Or about them finding out we lied?”

  His brows knit into a solid, heavy line. “I told you I’d be honest with you,” he said, his muted voice making me realize I’d almost yelled the last few words. “So yeah. I am worried about how they’ll react about us lying to them. Especially Rune. She barely trusts me as it is. But that doesn’t make my other objections invalid.”

  I closed my eyes, struggling to focus. Cage had a much more violent past than I did. He’d killed to survive, to protect his sister. He lied and gave orders with an easy grace I would never possess and wasn’t sure I wanted. But I’d asked him for honesty, and he’d given it. “You started this lie for me,” I told him at last. “And I know I went along with it. I’m not even sure it was wrong. But I can’t live it forever. I’m sorry if that feels like a betrayal.”

  “It’s not a betrayal, I just . . .” He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Look, let’s discuss this later, all right? You can’t tell them now, and Alexei gave us a time limit. I don’t want him charging in here like some kind of bear protecting its cubs.” He forced a grin. “My ego couldn’t take the hit.”

  It wasn’t much of a joke, but I let myself smile in return. “Okay. Let’s protect your fragile male pride. So how do we go about finding . . . who is Géxià?”

  He shouldered away from the wall with obvious relief. “She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s also the top buyer and seller on Obsidian, and the official Lóng clan representative. Or she was. She’s . . .” He shook his head. “You’ll see. Let’s go.”

  I didn’t resist when Cage threaded his fingers through mine, and we started through another torn-out door. The contact tingled. It wasn’t the first time we’d touched since Sanctuary. He’d picked me up, shoved me out of harm’s way, guided me in one direction or another. I’d tapped his shoulder to get his attention, examined a wound on his wrist. But this sort of prolonged contact was different, somehow, even if we were only holding hands to avoid getting separated. We dodged people with every step. Alexei’s family might run Obsidian, but clearly other groups and organizations held sway here too. I didn’t recognize all of the symbols and colors, but there were street gangs everywhere, marked by tattoos and clothing, and lots of random criminals besides: mercenaries and pickpockets, shifty-eyed, hands spidering through the crowd.

  I peered down the stairwell as we progressed. Obsidian seemed bigger than Sanctuary, with far more prison levels. Some of them were open, some still closed. I heard shouting and cheering from below, suggesting that other things might be going on in Obsidian’s depths.

  Or maybe it was just the sounds of people at life. Who knew? My own life was so reclusive and sheltered, lived mainly through the pages of manga and the dreams of following in my parents’ footsteps. Now, with my family in tatters, what did I know about anything?

  I heard the market before I saw it: a cacophony of chaos, people shouting and bellowing. A crowd lined the walls, and Cage kept a firm grasp on my hand as he pulled me in. Fingers danced over my pocket, but I ignored them. I had not one thing worth stealing besides my comm device, and Cage pressed that tightly between our wrists.

  The smell of food hit me with such power my knees buckled. The feast on Mars had sated my appetite, but I was hungry again, and the spicy scent of cooking meat made my mouth water. Familiar packages of freeze-dried food littered the area, but I also caught real vegetables in the mix. There must be hydroponics somewhere on Obsidian.

  I forced myself to turn away from the booths of people hawking bowls of steaming broth. We had to find a way off this station first and foremost. Besides, I doubted anyone would give me a meal out of the goodness of their hearts, and I didn’t have to scan my omnicard to know Omnistellar had long since frozen my accounts.

  We dodged around people, people everywhere, more than I’d ever s
een in a single place. Some haggled, some hawked, some simply stretched along the ground, looking too weak and emaciated to move. If I’d thought a criminal-run space station would do better with equality than we did on Earth, I’d been mistaken. Just like everywhere, some people had power, and some had nothing. Cage ignored them all, even as my stomach twisted unpleasantly at the sight of a little girl and her mother huddled against a wall. I fumbled in my pockets, but I had nothing to offer them, not so much as an energy bar. Cage tugged me on. “Don’t give anyone anything.”

  I blinked at him, surprised he’d caught my impulse. “That little girl—”

  “Could have someone waiting around the corner to jump you.” He sighed impatiently. “This isn’t a corporate-run city, Kenz. The rules don’t apply.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from arguing. He was probably right. I’d never set foot outside a corporate city except for a few months when we’d lived in a government slum, and even that had been in the transition process. My ignorance stung my pride. Another way Omnistellar had failed me.

  At last we reached what, on Sanctuary, would be the work area. There was no reason to assume the same thing here, although logic dictated something similar. Two guards stood outside: a tall, lanky Chinese woman and a short, stocky man with skin and eyes so pale they almost glowed. They were a study in contrasts, except that they both held an impressive array of weaponry.

  Cage inclined his head. “I have business with Géxià.”

  “I know.” The man swept his gaze over us. “Cage, right? We heard you’d come on board.”

  Wow. That news traveled fast. I wasn’t sure what else I expected on a station of criminals, though. Here, information was currency.

  Cage sighed. “Do you really want to stand here and banter, or can we get to business?”

  The woman shook her head. “You. Not her.”

  “No deal. We stay together.”

  She shrugged. “Then you don’t go in. You’re lucky Géxià is willing to see you at all. She’s certainly not letting your Omnistellar plaything inside.”

  Cage snarled, and I shoved him between the shoulder blades. “Go,” I said. “I’ll be fine.” I glared at him until he backed down. The woman had pissed me off too, but we needed her help. We could get mad about it later.

  Cage’s grip tightened around my hand. “Don’t move from this spot.”

  Bolts of anger prickled my spine. “I’m not your sister, Cage. And neither of us needs you ordering us around.”

  “I know.” He visibly forced himself to let go of my hand. “Sorry. I’m just . . . this place makes me nervous, that’s all.”

  I regarded him for a moment. Some of his bravado peeled away, leaving the boy I’d gotten to know on Sanctuary. The bond between us surged suddenly, and I saw my own fear reflected in my eyes. He didn’t mean the market, or Géxià. He meant Obsidian itself: its resemblance to Sanctuary, and all the memories that came with it.

  It was that, more than his high-handed commandments, that made me nod. “I’ll be here waiting,” I told him.

  He sighed in obvious relief and raised a hand toward me. It hovered between us as if he might lay it on my shoulder, maybe hug me. But then it dropped to his side. “Be careful,” he said, and turned to the guards. “All right. Take me to Géxià.”

  Cage followed the woman through the doorway, leaving me alone with the stocky man, who promptly folded his arms over his chest and ignored me.

  I shrugged and moved away. In spite of my annoyance with Cage’s orders, I had no intention of wandering around by myself. This place triggered my fight-or-flight instinct on every level. I was equal parts curiosity and terror. Omnistellar hadn’t prepared me for the real world in any way. Or maybe, Omnistellar had been my real world, my only world, and had expected to remain so. They hadn’t needed to prepare me for anything else. Even without the vivid memories of alien pursuit Obsidian conjured, it would have overwhelmed me with its sheer realness.

  The marketplace was straight out of Robo Mecha Dream Girl 5. I mentally relived Yukiko’s journeys into the slums of Nuokyo, seeking her strength and courage. Of course, she had a mech suit and a childhood of ninja training to protect her, while I had only my anonymity and background as a prison guard. That meant submission holds and ways to endure until backup arrived, not skills I thought would help me here.

  But no one seemed to notice me. They went about their business buying and selling, arguing, laughing, living. These might be criminals, but they were also families, people. For a prison guard, someone who’d spent her whole life in the system, I knew very little about the illegal world. It was a sobering reflection.

  A hand ghosted along my arm, barely registering in the throng of people.

  But I definitely noticed the moment my wrist monitor popped out of its slot.

  My eyes shot open, and I jerked upright in time to see a blur of white rags vanish between bobbing heads. “Hey!” I shouted, and without stopping to consider the wisdom of what I was doing, I plunged into the crowd in pursuit.

  Arrival on schedule. Where is master ship?

  Six hours behind.

  Turn around and go home, base. We’ll have things cleaned up by then. Legion is active.

  TWENTY

  “STOP!” I SHOUTED, PLUNGING INTO the crowd. The wisp of white vanished into a sea of people, and I shoved after it. That wrist communicator was my last link to home, to my father, to my friends, to my family. I might be conflicted about talking to my dad, afraid of what I’d discover, but I sure as hell couldn’t afford to lose it.

  I stumbled over someone’s feet, colliding with a decidedly hostile group of men. One of them stepped in front of me. Without stopping to think, I drove my elbow into his ribs. He doubled over, grunting, and I ducked under his friend’s arm, charging past the crowd.

  I put on a burst of speed, bulling my way through the market. A trail of shouted anger marked my wake until I emerged into the stairwell.

  I peered down the stairs, blinking. Hordes of faces peered back at me, probably wondering who and what had caused all the fuss. But I didn’t see the thief. Unless he’d ditched his clothing and casually blended in with the crowd below? Desperation made my head swirl. How would I ever find him?

  Someone shouted behind me, and I winced. So much for keeping a low profile. I was going to have the entire marketplace on my heels in a second. I needed to get out of here and hope I found Cage later. Otherwise he’d have to rescue me from some sticky situation, assuming I survived long enough. And if that was the case, I’d have to deal with him muttering about how he’d warned me to stay put. My fists tightened involuntarily. No, I would find a way to save myself.

  My gaze settled on a grated panel against the wall. Sanctuary didn’t have large ventilation ducts like this, or at least I didn’t think it did. But then, I’d learned that a lot of Sanctuary was hidden behind smooth walls and civilized veneers. Obsidian was an older model, with everything in the open.

  The voices behind me grew louder. I risked a glance back. The man I’d elbowed pushed his way through the crowd, a sizable following behind him. I didn’t have much time to make a choice.

  Did the grate look askew?

  If the thief hadn’t gone into the vents, I at least hoped my knowledge of Sanctuary would give me an edge in dodging any pursuit. Besides, the men looked too big to crawl through ductwork. I lunged for the grate, yanked it aside easily—too easily, giving me hope I wasn’t the first person to crawl through here today—and dove forward, squirming along on my elbows without bothering to pull the grate into place behind me.

  And not a moment too soon. A roar erupted, and the vent shuddered as someone lunged against it. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw a huge, leather-bound arm groping around the entrance, nowhere near my feet. Allowing myself a sigh of relief, I pressed onward. Definitely the right choice.

  My satisfaction quickly faded, though. I’d plunged into a vent on an unfamiliar prison station. Who knew where it led? It co
uld be a dead end, leaving me no choice but to shamefacedly climb back to the entrance and hope my pursuers weren’t waiting on the other side.

  Not to mention that the vent was pitch-black. Without my wrist monitor, I had no way to illuminate the passage. After I crept around the first corner, I was completely blind. A moment of panic assailed me, like the alien ship times a thousand: pitch-black, cramped, terrifying. For a second, I was sure I heard the soft drag of alien tails on metal.

  “Damn it, Kenzie, keep it together,” I whispered out loud. The aliens weren’t on Obsidian. If we’d destroyed that beacon in time, they were searching for their comrades somewhere far, far away.

  Of course, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be back. They had to know their harvest had failed. If they didn’t, they’d figure it out soon enough. The realization washed over me as I dropped my head to my clasped hands, my heartbeat echoing so loud it reverberated off the metal walls.

  Destroying the beacon hadn’t saved us. The aliens would be back. Was there anything we could do to stop them?

  Maybe. With time, with information, we might be able to do something. And if nothing else, destroying that beacon had bought us time. How much, I didn’t know. Maybe days. Maybe months. But we had time, time to plan, time to think. Omnistellar, for all their malice and apparent Machiavellian tendencies, employed some of the best scientists and researchers in the world. All I needed to do was survive the current situation long enough to get in touch with my dad, make him listen to me, make him believe me. And then Omnistellar could take it from there.