Glass Cage

by Emmy Chandler

  “But I—” My mouth snaps shut before I can further incriminate myself. “I want to know him.” I want to save him. I want a chance to see him under other circumstances. To truly meet him.

  “You can’t let yourself get emotionally involved,” Jack says. “Or your heart will break every time you come in to find an empty bed.”

  “At least then I’d be sure I have a heart,” I snap. And immediately I feel guilty. It isn’t wrong of Jack to protect himself by keeping his distance. But I can’t do that. Not with Beau, anyway.

  I’ve known that since the first time I saw him smile.

  7

  BEAU

  Minutes feel like hours as I lie in bed listening to the soft beeps and ticks of dozens medical monitors. Hours feel like forever while I wait for Kat to return.

  I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know what time it is, though the low level of light shining through my closed eyelids suggests night. My thoughts chase each other, echoing in the cavern of my head until I can’t remember whether any particular thought is new or playing on repeat. I feel like I’m losing my mind.

  To keep my shit together, I begin a mental mantra—a recitation of every muscle and bone in the body. I had to memorize them all in college, back when I was a physiology major, hoping to become a physical therapist. Back before I dropped out.

  Biggest mistake of my life. Other than taking my eyes off the road to reach for that cup in my passenger seat.

  Distal, middle, and proximal phalanges. Metatarsal. First, second, and lateral cuneiforms.

  I go through each bone one at a time, trying to move it. Since the surgery that took half of my liver, my body seems reluctant to cooperate. I think they’ve raised the dosages of whatever I’m on.

  I try to feel every individual muscle. I fight for control of my body. For the strength to make one toe twitch. To make my lips curl up into a smile. That’s the only way I have to greet Kat, and I am damn well going to smile when I see her.

  By the time the sun comes up, I’ve regained fragile control over the left side of my mouth. That’s a half-smile, in the bag.

  By the time I hear her walk onto the main floor—I’ve learned to recognize her footsteps—I’ve gained control over the other half of my mouth. I feel ridiculously, pathetically proud of that accomplishment. I can’t wait to hear her voice, even if she’s only talking to that other prisoner. Jack. She doesn’t talk to him like she talks to me. There’s a smile in her tone when she says my name that isn’t there when she speaks to him. That note of pleasure in her voice gives me hope.

  It’s the only thing I’m living for.

  To my surprise, instead of starting her work on the other side of the room, as she normally does, Kat seems to be headed straight for me.

  Surely I’m imagining that. Or I’ve mistaken someone else’s steps for hers.

  The footsteps pass by my bed without pausing, without a whispered word of greeting, and I can only listen as they fade in the other direction. Then I hear water running.

  It must be sponge bath day.

  I hear a rattling sound, as something clatters to the floor.

  “Hey,” Jack says from across the room, as his heavier steps squeal on the main floor. I don’t like him, because he flirts with my Kat. But I can’t deny that he’s good at his job. “You dropped something,” he calls out, presumably to Katerina. I hear the rattling sound again, as if he’s picked up whatever she dropped. “What is this? They put you on meds?” I can almost hear the frown in his voice. “There’s no label.”

  “Thanks. They’re just vitamins. Yesterday I got one tablet, but today the dispensary spit out a whole bottle. The screen said to take one a day. Borden says I’m anemic.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look?”

  “At the vitamins?” Her voice rises on the end of the question, and I picture her shrugging, her copper waves bobbing with the motion. “Sure.”

  There’s another soft rattle, presumably as he opens the bottle and looks inside.

  “So? Am I secretly being poisoned?” Kat asks, a singsong teasing note in her voice. “I’m sure there are easier ways to get rid of me, if that’s what Borden wants.”

  “They’re just vitamins,” Jack confirms, and the bottle rattles again as he gives it back to her. “But I stand by my suspicion. Those were given to you by a woman everyone calls the butcher.”

  “Not gonna lie; that does creep me out,” Kat says.

  Jack’s cart squeals as he begins filling it. They work in silence for a couple of minutes, then one of the carts rattles toward me, cutting across the center of the room on the way to the far side.

  Usually Kat goes around the grid of hospital beds, rather than through it, but this time—

  Something collides with my bed hard enough to jostle it. Warm water splatters the sheet covering my legs and soaks through to wet my feet. “Shit!” Kat curses, louder than necessary. As if she’s…performing. “I’m such a klutz.”

  No, she isn’t. She’s not much of an actress either. I’m not sure what she’s up to, but if I’m not buying it, no one else will.

  “What happened?” Jack’s steps jog toward her.

  “I hit this poor guy’s bed and sloshed water on him. Can you bring me a fresh sheet?”

  “Yeah, I—” Jack bites off the rest of whatever he was about to say, as a soft rustling tells me Kat is on my right side. “What the hell are you doing?” he demands softly.

  “Crimping his IV line,” she whispers, and surprise jolts through me. Followed by the tiniest sliver of hope. “I’m going to try to get him out of here, and I can’t exactly carry him. So I have to wake him up.” She’d said as much before, but I hadn’t dared believe she would actually go through with it. “And that means cutting off his sedative.”

  “What?” Jack demands in a fierce whisper. “Katerina, you’re going to get us both sent to gen pop. Do you know what goes on in the general population?”

  “I…I don’t care,” she says at last, slowly folding down the sheet covering me. “And you don’t have to help me. If I get caught, I’ll tell them you knew nothing about it. But I can’t just leave him here.”

  I don’t know whether to cheer silently or to try and stop her. Whatever she’s planning, it won’t work, but it will get her in serious trouble.

  “Well, you can’t crimp his line. The monitor will sense that, and it’ll start beeping. Which will alert every asshole in a lab coat in the entire building.”

  “Shit,” she whispers, as she continues folding back the wet sheet. “Fuck.”

  Jack must be able to hear the panic in her voice, because he sighs. “You’re going to do this no matter what I say, aren’t you? You’re going to try to get him out of here?”

  “You know I am.”

  Another sigh. “Fine. Then just stop the delivery of his sedative.”

  “How the hell do I do that?”

  “Tap the monitor and clear the dosage. There are no safeguards in place to prevent us from doing that, because they don’t have any reason to expect that we will. Because we’d have to be crazy to try it,” he finishes in a fierce whisper. “But do us both a favor and be subtle about it. In case someone is watching.”

  I can’t see whatever precaution she’s taking to disguise what she’s doing, but I hear material rustle, then I hear a soft beep from the monitor.

  “How long until that takes affect?” she whispers as her footsteps fade, along with the creak of the cart.

  “An hour or two, for the sedative to work its way out of his system,” Jack replies.

  “Good. That’ll give me time to work my way toward him from the other side of the room.”

  I don’t understand what that means until I hear both of them going about their jobs, as if this is any normal day. As if they haven’t just given me back a chance—however small that might be—at…well, at life.

  At first, I don’t feel any different. But after half an hour or so—though the lapsed time feels more li
ke a month—my left eyelid twitches, and I realize I can move it. I think I can open it, for the first time since…well, since the first time I saw Kat. The only time I’ve seen her.

  It takes all of my willpower to keep from opening my eyes, just because I can, for the first time in weeks. I resist the urge to celebrate with a little gratuitous use of the restored ability because I’m afraid someone will see me. I can’t hear anyone other than Kat and Jack at work on the main floor, but for all I know, there could be cameras everywhere.

  Instead of staring up at the ceiling, blinking with unmitigated joy, I focus on assessing my muscles, to see which ones obey a mental command to tense. At first, almost none of my muscles cooperates, which is beyond frustrating. But as the minutes slowly pass, more and more function returns to my body, and I have to focus to keep my pulse from racing in excitement and setting off an alarm on my monitor.

  By the time Kat’s cart rolls up in the row next to mine, it’s everything I can do to keep from turning my head so I can look at her. Instead, I indulge in a little toe curling. Admittedly, that’s nothing compared to the hundreds of bicep curls I used to do, but under the circumstances, it feels like one hell of a victory. And it doesn’t take Kat long to notice, though I can only tell she’s seen when a sudden soft, feminine gasp coincides with a particularly eager toe curl.

  “What?” Jack says, and when Kat doesn’t answer, I can only assume she’s silently gestured at me. “Shit. It’s working,” he breathes, from a little farther away. “I guess there’s no going back now. Please tell me there was more to your plan than just waking him up.”

  “The rest mostly consists of ‘run,’” she admits, and I can’t tell whether or not she’s kidding. “But to be fair, I thought I’d have at least another week to plan.”

  Unease raises chill bumps all over me. Why doesn’t she have another week?

  “So, now what?”

  “Now I go start some shit to keep both Officer Tinsley and Dr. Herrington busy, so we can run, and you stay the hell out of it, Jack. I don’t want you paying for what I’m doing.” Kat’s cart squeals again as she pushes it closer. “Beau, can you hear me?”

  I open my eyes and smile up at her. “Loud and clear,” I whisper, and she gasps, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

  “Subtle,” Jack murmurs, sounding half annoyed, half amused. I can see his outline over her shoulder, but I haven’t made myself focus on it yet. I can’t drag my attention from Kat and her blue eyes, still wide with surprise at my response.

  Blue eyes and red hair. That can’t be a common combination.

  “Sorry.” Her gaze is still glued to me, and I’m thrilled by that, even if the way she’s staring at me is bound to get us caught. “I just…that’s the first time I’ve heard your voice.”

  “It won’t be the last.” I hope she thinks I’m whispering in order to disguise the fact that I’m awake and alert, rather than because that’s all the volume I can manage, after weeks of silence and a very dry throat. “There are a million things I want to tell you.” And I want to whisper every single one of them into her ear, while we lie naked in bed together. I don’t care how inappropriate that thought may be, considering that I’m still on a hospital bed. All I want is to get to know her. Anywhere but here. “What can I do to help with whatever you have planned?”

  “You can hold still for a few more minutes.” She bends, evidently pretending to tie her shoe on the floor next to my bed. “As soon as I get the staff busy with something else, we’re going to make our move.”

  “I can help with that,” I insist softly, ignoring Jack as he stares down at me. Obviously sizing up the competition.

  Kat smiles as she rises. “Not until we’re sure you can stand under your own power.”

  “That might take a while,” Jack says. “You sit tight. I’ll help Kat.”

  I kind of want to punch him. But Kat might not like it if I hurt the guy helping her get me out of here. And I’m not entirely sure I can make a fist yet, much less lift my arm. So I swallow both my pride and my smartass retort. “Thank you.”

  But as soon as I’m on my feet again, I intend to make it quite clear that nice guy or not, he has no future with her.

  Katerina Mathern belongs with me.

  8

  KAT

  “You were kidding, right?” Jack whispers as we push our carts toward the row of sinks against one wall. “Please tell me there’s more to your plan than ‘run.’”

  “No,” I admit. “But in my defense, when I say ‘run,’ I actually mean ‘steal a ship and fly it as fast as we can, far away from this fucked up organ farm.’”

  He pushes his cart to a stop and steps on the brake with one foot. “There are so many reasons that isn’t going to work.”

  “One thing at a time. The first thing involves hitting two birds with one stone, wherein those birds are Dr. Herrington and Officer Tinsley.”

  Jack exhales slowly. “What’d you have in mind?”

  “It’s almost lunch time.” According to the clock visible on every donor’s monitor. “Which means there’s a barebones staff here on the main floor, and that Officer Tinsley will be in the storage closet down the hall from the cafeteria, trying to talk Nanette into a blowjob in exchange for whatever luxury he’s managed to scrounge up for her. If we smack him on the back of the head hard enough to knock him out, Dr. Herrington and his staff will be busy doctoring the pervert while I help Beau off the main floor.”

  “And just where do you plan to take him?” Jake asks as I drain my soapy basin into the sink.

  “Not sure yet.” I really thought I’d have more time to figure that out. “I just need some place to hide out while he reacquaints his body with voluntary motion. How long do you think that will take?”

  Jack shrugs. “That varies with every patient. He hasn’t been here too terribly long, and you seem to spend extra time exercising him. Considering he was already obviously in top shape, he should bounce back relatively quickly. Especially if you get him fed and keep him hydrated. But Kat, this whole thing’s a long shot. You know that, right? There’s almost no possibility that you’re going to make it off this planet with him.”

  I nod as I disconnect the soapy basin so I can drain the rinse water basin. “But this is the best chance we’re going to get, and I have to take it.”

  “I know.” And he does seem to understand.

  “You can come with us, you know.” I grab a spray bottle from the countertop and spray both basins with disinfectant, then I start to wipe them down with a disposable cloth. “Logan and my roommates, too. We could all go.” I can’t get the other donors out; most of them can no longer survive without the machines they’re hooked up to anyway. And I won’t have time to get to all the other inmate laborers. Especially those who work in the other building. But there’s no reason we can’t at least try to take Lara, Nan, Ava, and Logan with us when we get the fuck out of dodge.

  “This is insane.” Jack’s eyebrow twitches with nerves. “This is never going to work. But…I might know where we can get a ship. Assuming you can fly one. Because I can’t.”

  I give him a quiet smile. “So, you’re coming with us?”

  He shrugs. “Chances are good that none of us are going anywhere. But if you are leaving this rock, I’m coming with you.”

  “So where is this ship?”

  “There’s actually an entire landing lot full of them, next to the recipient ward. It’s west of this building. If you look closely through the long, exterior wall on the main floor, when Herrington sets it to transparent, you can see one corner of it, all the way to the right.”

  “Recipient ward?” That’s what the other zone twelve building is?

  “Yeah. The organ recipients stay there, until they’ve recovered enough to take a medical ship back to their homeworlds. There’s also housing for their families and the staff they travel with. Which mostly consists of pilots and post-op medical teams.”

  “Of course the recipient
s are here!” How could I not have already figured that out? “It wouldn’t make sense to remove organs here, then ship them halfway across the galaxy. So naturally they perform the procedures here.”

  “Yeah.” Jack seems surprised I hadn’t realized that. “The butcher isn’t just removing organs, upstairs. She’s also transplanting them, with the help of a specialized team and a bunch of robotic equipment. And when she isn’t in surgery, she spends most of her time treating patients post-op, in the recipient ward. They usually have family with them, so their ward is set up like an apartment building, but I can’t imagine all of the suites are currently occupied. With any luck, security will scour this building looking for you before they branch out. Which should give bedridden Romeo a little time to get his feet under him.”

  “And you think we could steal one of the medical ships?”

  Jack shrugs as he wipes down his own basins. “I’m guessing they’re mid-range, based on the size, and they’ll have all the equipment we’d need, in case something goes wrong with Beau.” Or someone gets hurt during the escape. Jack doesn’t say that, but I know he’s thinking it. “And as civilian ships, they have clearance to get through the pyro-shield, though that could change, if anyone figures out we’re on board.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  Jack shrugs. “When you’re here very long, you overhear things.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper as I refill both basins. I wish I could hug him, but that would look suspicious, if anyone’s watching. “Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. We have no idea whether any of this will actually work.”

  “Speaking of things we’re not sure will work…” I squirt soap into one of my basins and swirl it around with one hand. “I have one more favor to ask. Is there any way you could swipe a syringe full of something nasty?”