So he focused on the big empty black space in his mind where his drake had been, though he knew he shouldn’t, and he felt a rush of blood across his vision and it was chill and choking. The flames were inside him and he craved the voice telling him it would all be all right. There was no one to tell him, only the echoes. There would never be someone and the flames melted his eyes and boiled his cold blood and he turned to dust in the fire and he was falling so fast the flesh was torn from his body and there was screaming in his ears and it might have been his own and there was nothing to calm him and he would open his mouth and consume himself and his death would be in never-ending agony and—
‘Dylan.’
—so he cried because it wasn’t the right voice and his eyes opened all by themselves and he shivered so hard he thought his eyes might fall out and his neck break and in front of him wasn’t his drake like he craved but it was Barney—
‘Dylan.’
—and Barney was standing over him, one gentle hand rocking his shoulder.
‘I’m sorry, Dylan,’ said Barney softly.
‘No,’ said Leitch, desperately trying to surface.
‘You’re right, I am a human being and I don’t want to live with guilt.’
Leitch had to search hard through his scattered mind to link up Barney’s words with the memory. ‘That’s great, he needs to go.’
‘Talk into your hands. Some of them lip read, remember?’ Barney crouched down and held Leitch’s wrist as if taking his pulse. He put his mouth in close so he could whisper. ‘You need to remember this. I know you can because you’re not gone, not yet, but sometimes the deep dark won’t let you go, will it?’
Leitch was aware tears were rolling down his face and on to his pillow and he wasn’t really sure why. ‘Am I awake?’
‘Yes. You’re going to do something very important. More important than your last drake mission, okay?’
Leitch blew out a laugh on the back of a sob. ‘Liar. What’s happening?’
‘You don’t like Max being here, do you?’
‘And you feel guilty,’ said Leitch, finally making the connection and feeling some of the cloying cold blood drain from his mind, leaving him a little freer to think. ‘Is he going, then?’
‘Only with your help.’ Barney shook a little pot he had in his free hand. ‘I’m going to give you your pills. Pretend to take them now, actually take them later.’
‘How much later?
‘When Max has gone.’
Leitch smiled. ‘I can do that.’
‘I know it’s hard when you wake up from the dark place and I know it’s harder to think when you don’t have your pills,’ said Barney. ‘But it’s important you understand. Tell me: what happens if someone is cross with you?’
‘It’s okay because I always have my pills.’
‘But what if you haven’t had your pills?’
‘I get very upset.’
Leitch’s heart was suddenly beating very fast and very hard and he needed the chill of the blood to calm it down but it wasn’t there.
‘Today, that’s a good thing.’
Chapter 22
Ten thousand people live on this behemoth. We carry enough ordinance to flatten a small country. I can send out a hundred drakes to burn the sky and eight thousand marines to turn the sand to glass. Sometimes, that weighs heavy. Should one person be in command of so much capacity for destruction?
Nicola Avery, Commander, Heart of Granite
Max was going to have to eat soon. Well, he didn’t have to but he was starting to question why he was enduring hunger pains and food fantasies, particularly when he had no reason to doubt Hewitt. His was a well-directed cruelty and Max fully expected him to reappear carrying the force-feeding tube or massive hypo or whatever else they’d use to force Max to take his life- limiting drugs.
He’d tried most of the plants in the garden and merely reminded himself how marvellous meat tasted, even when it had been freeze dried and reconstituted. He was still drinking from the fountain and the garden’s irrigation system and was suffering no ill-effects.
He had to get out . . .
Max hadn’t quite given up, but he knew the routine, he’d heard all the stories and time was running out, first for Martha and then for him. He hadn’t heard her in his head since that one violent outburst of loneliness.
He lay on his bed in the half-light and heard the music come on, which meant the medics would be coming round with pills and jabs and then some food. He wondered if he’d give in and eat this time. When the door opened, Barney walked in with the tray of medications and intravenous bags. A trolley of food, smelling unbelievable, was pushed in by another medic who retreated immediately and closed the door.
Max watched in silence as Barney visited every bed. He was different from the other medics and their cursory, dehumanising attitude. Obviously that was why Leitch had targeted him for the guilt-trip. Max had thought him sullen before but now he looked more carefully, it was more like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. Who’d have thought it, a nut nurse who cared?
Barney paused to speak with Leitch at some length and then did the same with Diana. He sat them both up, moved their tables across their beds and gave them their plates of food and cups of water. Satisfied with his patients he brought the trolley past Max.
‘You should eat,’ he said.
Max almost jumped out of his skin. ‘I thought I was the invisible man in here.’
Barney shrugged. ‘We know why you’re not eating. Most pilots do it but we’ve never laced the food with meds. Don’t have to. When we want you to take them, you take them, remember what Leitch said? So eat. You need your strength.’
‘Yeah you’re right,’ said Max. ‘All this lying down is really exhausting.’
‘You’re going to need your sense of humour too,’ said Barney. He moved Max’s table across his bed and put a covered plate of food on it. It allowed him to move closer to Max. ‘Eat. It’s safe. Be ready.’
Max tried hard not to react, though his pulse had skyrocketed. Barney straightened and poured Max a cup of water.
‘Stay quiet, the others don’t like being disturbed when they’re eating.’
‘I’m brilliant at chewing silently,’ said Max, trying to calm himself down a little.
‘You’re a real comedian.’
Max waited until Barney had moved off before he took the cover off his food, staring at it as his pulse returned to something approaching normal. Chicken, vegetables and gravy, plus a fresh baked roll. Max’s stomach attempted to leap from his mouth and grab it all in one go but he forced himself to take a sip of water first and then cut an altogether smaller amount than he really wanted.
‘Might as well savour it,’ he said.
It was the best food he’d ever tasted. He tried to eat it slowly, he really did, but in a tragically short space of time, his plate was gleaming clean, any remaining specks of gravy wiped away with the roll. Max drained his water and sighed in satisfaction.
‘Hey Max, I’m talking into my hands. Do the same so the spies can’t see your mouth.’
Max smiled and turned to plump up his pillow with great focus and concentration.
‘Hey Dylan, you all right?’
‘I will be when you’re gone. No offence.’
‘None taken.’
‘You’ll hear all sorts of shit. Ignore it and do what you got to do, okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘Goodbye Max,’ said Diana, her voice a little muffled too.
‘Bye, Diana. And thank you. I’m going to blow this right open, you know that.’
‘I know it, Max-fucking-Halloran,’ said Diana. Max only just managed to suppress a belly laugh.
‘Make it right,’ said Leitch.
‘For all of us,’ said Max.
‘Too late for us. For the rest of you.’
‘I promise.’
The two stricken pilots fell silent and all Max could do was watch them and wait. He�
��d quickly learned how fast their moods could change whether they’d had stabilisers or not and pushing either of them could lead to a confused and uncomfortable silence. So he focused on his toes while he listened to the clanking of cutlery on plates and the sound of pilots in various states of mental and physical incapacity and prayed for the door to open and for whatever it was to begin.
The wait was interminable. Just to be a little cruel, the door opened once to admit an orderly and a medic to clear the plates, and then once more to resettle one of the sicker inmates who had begun to twitch, whimper and shout.
Max’s anxiety grew. He’d imagined his triumphant return to the squad rack and a night of celebration in Gargan’s but it wasn’t going to be like that. He’d have to hide, effectively exchanging one prison for another. Until he could be cleared or Kirby was stopped from carrying out his plan, he’d be reliant on others for absolutely everything.
And then there was Martha. Someone would have to protect her too. But how could you protect a drake on a behemoth flight deck. Max felt heat in his face as he realised there was only one option that would save them both, and even then probably only in the short term.
The door opened again and in walked Barney wearing a serious expression and carrying a covered hypo. The door remained open and a pair of orderlies watched as he strode over to Leitch.
‘Leitch, your readouts show you didn’t take your pills. If you don’t then I have to inject you and you don’t like that, do you?’ Barney’s tone was nauseatingly patronising.
‘Am I coming out today?’ asked Leitch.
‘Well, let’s see, shall we?’ said Barney. ‘Perhaps if you take your pills.’
‘You bloody liar!’ said Leitch. ‘No one gets out.’
‘All right, Dylan,’ said Diana in an overloud voice. ‘Remember the drugs give you hope.’
‘Hope,’ snarled Leitch and the tension in the ward went vertical. ‘Stupid, stupid when my blood is so cold and my head is burning and my legs are rotting and my mouth spews shit.’
‘Please don’t talk like that,’ said Diana. ‘I don’t like it when you talk like that.’
‘Come on, let’s just take a breath,’ said Barney gently.
‘You just don’t want to hear the truth so you can go back and pretend it isn’t so bad and there is no pain, don’t you Barney? Well there is and I hate it I hate it I hate it!’
The orderlies made a move in but Barney held up his hands to keep them back.
‘It’s okay,’ he said but there was sweat on his brow and Max wondered how much of this was play-acting and how much was real.
‘Where’s Hayley?’ demanded Leitch.
‘Hayley can’t come,’ said Barney and he glanced over at Max.‘We explained why, didn’t we? No one can have visitors here.’
‘And why would she want to? Poor mad Dylan, no more than a dribbling animal now.’
‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ cried Diana and Max could hear her breaking down into tears. ‘Why are you talking like that? I’m sure she still cares.’
‘Noonefuckingcares!’ snapped Dylan.
‘No noise, no noise!’ sobbed Diana. ‘Please, I hate it.’
‘I need you both to quiet down,’ said Barney, his voice carrying no urgency whatever. Other inmates were starting to react. The orderlies edged in and this time, Barney didn’t stop them. ‘Especially you, Dylan. Now, are you going to take your pills?’
‘Oh, am I being a bad boy, Barney? Please put me on a charge. That’s so much worse than having your brain slowly dissolve into a puddle of sludge.’
‘He just wants to help!’ wailed Diana. ‘Why do you have to be like this?’
‘Because I’m fucking dying in fucking agony!’ roared Leitch.
‘I hate the noise,’ whimpered Diana into the short silence.
From Max’s right came a whirring noise. He turned to see the camera swinging round to focus on the left side of the ward, which was descending into impressive chaos. Barney took a pace towards the head of Leitch’s bed, brandishing the hypo. Despite his lower body paralysis, Leitch hinged at the waist and landed a remarkable punch on Barney’s left cheek.
Diana screamed and began to cry, her voice falling and rising like an alarm. Barney fell back, swearing equally impressively. One of the orderlies pressed the panic button by the door and they both ran to help. A klaxon went off in the corridor.
‘Forget me, calm Diana,’ snapped Barney, stretching his jaw and rubbing his cheek. ‘Dylan’s not going anywhere, after all.’
But he was trying to. The former pilot thrashing in his bed, jerking his hips from side to side in an effort to move his useless legs and succeeding only in dislodging his bedding and juddering himself closer to the raised bars that kept him from falling out.
In response to the alarm, two security guards ran in, banging the door back against the wall and giving Max a glimpse of freedom. A third guard was hurrying along the corridor.
‘I need him in the garden. Get him away from the others so I can jab him,’ said Barney, who had a bruise swelling on his cheek.
‘No problem, Barn,’ said one. The pair marched up either side of Leitch and grabbed a shoulder each, their combined strength only just able to counter his frenzy. ‘Come on, Dylan, let’s go see the flowers.’
‘Fuck you. I don’t need flowers I need Max to go. Go away Max, go away!’
Max froze where he was sitting up in his bed. The two guards glanced at him and then at the door where the third guard was now stationed. Max just shrugged.
‘That’s not going to happen,’ said Barney. ‘Come on, Dylan, enough.’
Leitch continued to heave and thrash as he was helped out of bed, trying to butt the guards. Spittle was flying everywhere, Leitch was frothing at the mouth and Max felt a deep sense of responsibility. However much this had been controlled at the outset, it certainly wasn’t now.
Max dared a glance at the third guard who was no more than three metres away and staring at the hysterical pilot. The struggle was moving steadily towards the garden, with Barney walking along behind, his large frame obscuring much of what was happening behind him. The two orderlies were both faced away from Max, one calming Diana’s hair, another helping her swallow mood stabilisers. It was now or never.
Max leaned to his right to get his water and instead upended his whole table. There was nothing on it barring the plastic cup and it made precious little sound but it caught the eye of the guard, as did Max hopping out of bed to set things right jamming his feet into his softies as he went.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
The guard took a half pace towards him, and the door began to close on its hydraulic hinges.
‘Back in bed,’ she said.
‘Sure,’ said Max. ‘Let me just . ..’
He leaned forwards to pick up his empty cup, came up fast and cracked a fist into the guard’s chin. Her eyes rolled back and she crumpled. The door was almost closed and Max dived headlong for it, snared it a few centimetres from the point of no return and dragged it back open.
He looked around. Leitch, still shouting at the top of his voice, and his helpers were in the garden. Behind him, Diana had started screaming again and the two orderlies hadn’t looked round. The alarm klaxon was still sounding, covering all but the loudest of sounds. Max breathed deep and walked out of Landfill, letting the door click shut behind him.
With the klaxon still going, there would be more attention on the ward soon enough but Max reasoned that few enough people knew he was an inmate. He was wearing standard patient fatigues anyway, so he wouldn’t stand out.
He forced himself to walk calmly up the corridor, past the medic station and guard post doors, turning a sharp left into the central walkway, through the medical centre where no one paid him the slightest attention. Max hurried round the brain sheath and finally found what he was looking for. The digital clock told him it was seventeen thirty-five.
He caught his reflection in a ward w
indow too and rather wished he hadn’t. There were stale sweat patches on his tee- shirt, he was unshaven and looked sunken-eyed, though that might have been the light and glass playing tricks on him. He consciously kept his head up and a bright expression on his face.
Max kept moving at his unhurried pace, however much he wanted to sprint. He strode purposefully to the metal and bone bulkhead doors that stood open onto the neck walkway. The neck was at an angle of about thirty degrees meaning the Heart of Granite was still tracking drakes and ground forces. It gave Max a good view down the busy moving walkways. The doors at the base of the neck stood open, guard posts were empty. So far so good.
Max moved onto the walkway, walking quickly down the left-hand side, excusing himself past people and scanning everyone he could in case he was about to pass one of Kirby’s inner circle. He was half way down when the ship-wide com sounded and announced a security level three lockdown rehearsal and every one was to have their passes ready for inspection. So his escape had been discovered, then.
Chapter 23
Surely the greatest sacrifice is mine? If we lose this war, I lose everything. So if we win, should I not benefit?
Gilles Corsini, Diaries
Max moved more quickly but he still wasn’t fast enough. Below him, at the bulkhead doors to the torso, military police were gathering. They stood in four pairs, two either side of each entrance, and began checking everyone in and out. The movement on the walkway slowed dramatically as the bottleneck built up and the walkway gently came to a stop, sensing the building problem.
A quick glance back showed him another ten Mips heading down the walkway at some speed and barking commands to clear the way. There was no other way out but to carry on down and nowhere else he could think of to run but back to the heater girls and the dubious sanctuary of the flesh tunnels.
Max was less than ten metres from the bulkhead doors into the main spine now. He could see the Mips notice that someone was causing ripples. One of them moved his way, calling for people to stop pushing. Max pushed harder, trying to shove people to either side.
Heart of Granite Page 21
