Lifer

by Beck Nicholas

  He jerks away like I have razor blades hidden in my fingertips. His gaze fixes on the doors. Anywhere but at me.

  I think back to the moment of heat between us in the hallway last night. Maybe Davyd wasn’t as in control as I thought. Could he hate me less than he seems? Something like anticipation skitters up my spine even as I reject the notion.

  Then the doors slide open and I don’t have time to think. My fellow Lifers look at me as I walk through the hallway toward the sleeping quarters. Davyd’s a glowering shadow behind me but the stir of interest is muted. Fishies don’t come down here, but questioning one isn’t worth the risk.

  I ignore them all. The listening device in my palm’s tiny. It couldn’t possibly weigh as much as it feels like.

  We pass Kaih near the doorway. She offers me a tentative smile, flashing white teeth. Still here for me if I need her despite my brushing her off so many times the last few weeks. The device in my hand grows heavier.

  Back when my whole world was wrapped up in Samuai and our secret romance, I’d be late all the time or forget to meet her. As bad as I feel about it, I don’t regret those captured moments now that Samuai’s gone, but she deserves a better friend. One not carrying in her hand the possible destruction of everything she holds dear.

  I send her a message with my eyes and my attempt at a smile. I’m sorry. But I don’t say the words aloud. Not with Davyd here. I walk past her without a word and fail my oldest friend again.

  Think Asher. There has to be some way to warn everyone.

  I duck to enter the sleeping room. And gag. Lingering body odor mixes with musty damp since the air circulation isn’t at its best down here. Why didn’t I ever notice the smell in here before? The day I’ve spent in the clean, fresh air of the upper level’s made the dank, cramped quarters down here even more depressing.

  I look for Mother. Did she worry when I didn’t return last night?

  There’s no sign of her tall, svelte shape among the Lifers gathered at the sinks or in the one or two small groups talking quietly on the beds. My search becomes more frantic. If she’s in the training rooms or swapped shifts with someone, I’ll have no hope of giving her a message.

  I’m deliberately clumsy as I walk the route between the beds to Neale’s area, glad he’s nowhere to be seen to earn me a lecture about proper behavior around my betters. I gain a few more seconds to think, or more accurately panic.

  “Get your things, inform your mother, and get a move on,” Davyd says a pace behind me.

  I reach my area and fumble for a bag or something to put my clothes in. I try to draw it out, but the task is over far too quickly. I rise to my feet. “Mother’s not here.”

  Davyd grunts. “Too bad.”

  I know what he’s thinking: his task was to chaperone me down here and ensure I plant the device for his father. It doesn’t matter to any of them whether I actually get a chance to speak to my mother and let her know I won’t be back for the foreseeable future. It was only ever a cover story. But it matters to me.

  “Kaih,” I call. Davyd steps close behind me so that I feel his breath on the back of my scalp. A prickle spreads across my skin. It’s a warning. A reminder he’s here.

  My oldest friend’s at my side in a moment, eyeing Davyd with suspicion. “What’s up?”

  I hoped she might see me with Davyd, worry, and linger nearby just in case I needed her, but the actuality of it makes my tongue thick with emotion. “Where’s Mother?”

  A perfectly valid question.

  Kaih frowns. “Elex should be back by now.”

  I’ve delayed all I can. I offer Kaih a tight smile. “Thanks.”

  She gets my conversation-over tone and walks away but not before I’ve seen the concern she can’t hide in her eyes.

  Davyd’s hand grips my elbow, firm but not hard enough to hurt. He forces me to face him. “Get it done.”

  I nod. Like I have a choice. He releases me and I move toward the end of my bed. I fake a stumble. My momentum lands me in Neale’s space where I use his bed frame to drag myself up. And leave the device behind.

  I close my eyes for a second. There’s no going back now.

  “Asher?” My mother’s voice, but warped almost unrecognizably high-pitched it carries out across the sleeping quarters. “Is that you, darling?”

  Darling? That’s a new one. Must be for our visitor. “It is me, Mother.”

  She hurries between the beds and I move to meet her halfway, feeling Davyd follow. I need to get away from the device and think of a way to warn Mother. It’s going to be pretty difficult with Davyd close enough to hear every word.

  When she embraces me I notice dampness on her back and strain in each breath. Kaih must have run to find her while I planted the device. Mother presses me close and her heart races against my own chest.

  I open my mouth to tell her and feel Davyd’s hand on my back. He’s too close.

  “I’ve been asked to stay on the upper levels with Lady,” I explain loudly.

  Her eyes narrow at the woman’s title but she manages to keep her response to the expected worries of a parent. “For how long? Will you be allowed to visit? I’ll miss you.”

  “I’m not sure.” I glance over my shoulder at Davyd but he shrugs. I guess the whims of his mother are as mysterious to him as they are to me.

  My mother asks some more questions I don’t have enough answers to and lectures me on good behavior. None of my words are the warning I need to give her. I’m hoping we get a little time before Davyd escorts me back to the upper levels since the whole pretext of our trip was seeing my mother.

  As I listen, I’m thinking. How do I get Davyd far enough away from us to be able to speak to Mother undetected? It’s not like I’ve ever been able to vomit on command and I saw how he was with his mother, a fake collapse wouldn’t bother him at all.

  What bothers Davyd?

  I flash back to the elevator when I touched him unexpectedly. I trouble Davyd sometimes. There’s a connection between us that he likes about as much as I do. And he’s always strange when I remind him of my relationship with Samuai.

  It’s the barest glimmer of a plan, but launch it, I have to try something.

  Sorry Samuai.

  With perfect timing Mother, perhaps recognizing I need a delay, goes on about how I must always present myself in neat and clean attire when dealing with the Fishies.

  I clap my hand over my mouth. “Oh my, you’re right.”

  “I am?” Mother sounds a little surprised.

  “I wore this top to sleep in last night. I should change it.” I immediately start to dig in my bag for a replacement.

  “Lifer.” Davyd’s voice holds a warning.

  As though I’m unaware of his tone I turn so I’m facing him. His arms are folded across his chest and there’s tension in the veins in his shoulders revealed by his tight black training tank top, a match for the one of Samuai’s I’m wearing.

  “It won’t take long,” I promise, allowing a small, embarrassed smile to play on my lips.

  My fingers grip the lower hem of my top and the tank beneath. I meet and hold Davyd’s gaze. His gray eyes appear black in the shadows but they’re fixed on me. The room around us fades. The tug of awareness zaps between us. Usually, I’d look away to hide from the intensity of him, but not this time.

  The flesh of my lower lip is tender under the onslaught of nervous teeth. The pain gives me courage. Focus. Down here there is no privacy and no point in attempting to change anywhere but in the open.

  I lift my left hand a little first, then my right. A slow reveal of the bare flesh of my midriff. Davyd’s gaze drops to my skin and then returns to mine. Hot. Challenging. I lick at dry lips. I lift my hands higher still.

  He doesn’t look away. Heaven help me. Is that appreciation in his eyes?

  I’m holding my breath, trying to remember the point of what I’m doing. Distracting Davyd, driving him away. That’s ri
ght. The future of everyone I care about depends on this working.

  I lift my hands high enough to reveal a hint of bra. A curve of breast. His smile is satisfied. All male.

  Not for long, I hope. I let the soft material of Samuai’s tank top slip from my grasp.

  It takes less than a second for Davyd to notice the black undergarment. His jaw tightens and I imagine his teeth grind together. He spins away and stalks toward the doorway. “Time to go.”

  It worked. Is there hurt in the too-straight line of his back? Not Davyd.

  I’ll only have a moment before he’ll come looking for me. Please let it be long enough. Mother closes the gap between us even as I’m tugging the new top over my head. “Nice performance,” she whispers.

  It’s either censure or pride in her voice and I don’t have time to think about it. Under the cover of a final mother-daughter embrace I warn her.

  “There’s a listening device hidden beneath Neale’s bed frame. They think he’s the rebel leader.”

  She nods and I hope she’ll connect the dots on everything I don’t have time to say. Then I’m following Davyd back to the upper levels.

  He’s silent until we reach the training levels. “Mother doesn’t expect you to return until dinner. You’re under my supervision until then.”

  Is this where I get payback for downstairs? “Don’t you have work to do?”

  Young Fishies don’t work shifts like us but they’re given junior roles in the system. From what I heard yesterday, Davyd’s somehow been allowed some Naut work too.

  His slow headshake borders on menacing. “I finished up before babysitting duty.” He stretches his thick-muscled arms above his head. “I could use a work out.”

  “There’s probably someone free.”

  His jaw sets. “You.”

  “No. No way.” He must know I avoid the training rooms other than the minimum required for fitness aboard the ship. After what happened to Zed and Samuai, I taste bile at the mere thought of going in there.

  “Yes way. Unless you want to refuse a direct order?” His sigh is long and exaggerated. “Won’t look too good on your sentencing report.”

  Davyd’s father already noticed me more than I’d like. I don’t need any more red flags if I hope to find out anything more about Samuai and Zed. I need Davyd’s help and I don’t want to piss him off any more than I have already.

  But fighting?

  My hesitation seems to improve Davyd’s mood. He’s smiling and against my will I notice again just how good-looking he is. I drag my gaze away. I have too much to lose by refusing and he knows it. I swallow nausea. “Fine.”

  There’s a free room set up with a variety of suspended rock-like obstacles. They allow the full area to be used with fighters able to leap from one to another. Falls are rarely serious thanks to the protective mats on the floor. Directed lights create bright areas and deep, dark shadows. The winner is decided when the other player cries for mercy or when the wrist straps we collect by the door detect serious injury.

  We both remove our shoes. It’s strange to be in here. I haven’t entered a training room since Zed and Samuai died in one.

  Davyd seals the room, and flicks the switch to reduce gravity. The familiar hum vibrates through my body and I make a show of limbering up a little and familiarizing myself with the layout.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  Despite having already decided to lose, I can’t help the lick of nerves beneath my skin. He won’t be gentle. Not after what happened in the sleeping quarters. I tighten the wrist straps and feel the nano-probes nestle into my skin. I breathe in the scent of past fights—sweat and fear, adrenaline and triumph.

  My mouth’s too dry for words. I nod and slap my wrists together, the start signal. Davyd does the same. We begin.

  He saunters toward me, his muscles rippling with every step. “You’re pale.” He arches a brow. “Scared?”

  I jump lightly onto a rock behind me. It gives slightly beneath my weight. Now I’m looking down on him. “Are you?”

  “Of you? Never.” He follows me with a bound, but doesn’t move to strike.

  I wait for the attack. I’ve seen him in the training rooms, he’ll act first. Patient, but deadly, and he wants to win. Sick of the tension, I jump higher and feel him on my trail, but still not closing to make contact.

  Just fight already.

  I stop on the highest obstacle. Under the direct beam of a white, bright light. Nowhere to hide. It’s a long way down from here and being around Davyd gives my usually steady legs the shakes. Questions battle in my head. Was Zed this high when he took his last breath? Did Samuai die first? The waiting feels like one of the kitchen graters slicing across my nerves.

  Enough. I launch a half-hearted kick at his groin. His left wrist swings down to deflect and his right follows up with a punch to my solar plexus. I huff and automatically block a kick while I catching my breath.

  My hand rubs the spot I know will bruise in the morning. A leap to a lower rock seeped in shadows gives me a second to recover. Davyd’s there a moment later. It’s easy to drop to my haunches in pain.

  “Mercy,” I say, exaggerating my gasp for air.

  His brows come together. “You’re not this weak.”

  “It was a good punch.”

  “Fight properly or don’t fight at all,” he growls.

  I shrug. “I tried that option. You weren’t interested.”

  His annoyance adds gravity to a place where I should be light on my feet. He stares down at me. “What will it take, Asher?”

  “To fight you? Why does it matter?”

  One fist pounds into his palm in obvious frustration. “Everyone else on board lives for the training rooms, whatever level they were born to. Lifer, Fishie, Naut. Not you. What makes you think you’re better than everyone else?”

  The question hangs there. Hovering in the low gravity.

  “I don’t.”

  Is that how I come across? Does Mother think that? Did Samuai and Zed? I clamp my mouth shut to stop from defending myself further and giving weight to the accusation.

  And then his words sink in. He’s noticed. He’s been watching me. For how long? I try to read his shadowed face for answers but the flat line of his mouth says nothing more than I’ve pissed him off again.

  He glares. “Then compete for once.”

  He doesn’t even hide how much he wants this.

  I could use him. He wants me to fight and I need his help to get a look at the cremation logs. My distaste for pointless fighting must be secondary to getting the answers I need. I rise to my feet in an easy movement. “You want me to fight?”

  “Yes.”

  I settle my hands on my hips. “I’ll fight you on one condition.”

  “You’re not in any position to be asking for favors.”

  “Whatever.” A flip puts me on a lower rock and I swing to the ground, leaving him behind.

  There’s a long silence. “What do you want?”

  “If I win, I want access to cremation logs. I promised your mother.” I hold my breath.

  “You want me to get you into the Control Room? You know it’s forbidden.”

  “Yes.”

  A long pause and then a shrug. “Okay.”

  “I want your word you’ll help me.”

  “My word?” He laughs. “You think that’s worth anything when given to someone like you?”

  Like me, a Lifer. Less than human. “Give me your word. Or I walk away.”

  “Fine. You have my word I’ll help you get to the Control Room.”

  I slap my wrists together. “Let’s get this over.”

  He gives the signal and we begin again. This time I move warily. I don’t have the training room experience to trouble someone like Davyd but I suspect he’ll know if I don’t try. He’s balanced, his weight distributed on both feet, the consummate fighter.

  He holds his hands high. “Free
hit to get you started.”

  I know he expects me to argue. Instead I step close. Punch him hard, aiming for the kidneys. My fist hits a wall of muscle and I cover a wince, but he couldn’t hide his surprise.

  “I said hit, not tickle.”

  “Now you’re making me wish I’d gone for your face.”

  His chuckle brings an answering smile to my lips despite my determination to hate this. To hate him. Then he closes in. Swinging. One. Two. Three. My ribs are on fire and I can’t breathe. I manage to block the next one and I swing as hard as I can for his head but he dodges out of my reach.

  Can’t breathe, can’t move. That hurt. That really hurt.

  I retreat to the rock, blocking his blows and attempts to follow me as I go higher and higher. Twice I land a good kick but my foot bounces off his muscled thighs. By the time I reach the top I have a bruised calf and my ribs still burn.

  Davyd looks at me from the rock below. “Nowhere else to go, baby.”

  “There are always choices.”

  “Not for us.”

  He leaps and I attack before he lands. Left. Right. I punch with everything I’ve got. Then he’s closer and there’s amusement in his eyes. I’m scratching, clawing at his throat. There’s a rush of adrenaline through me but it’s gone as fast as it arrives. My blows have no effect. I can’t hurt him. I can’t stop him.

  He grabs first my right wrist and then my left, holding them easily in one hand. I kick out, slam my forehead into his grinning mouth but he’s too strong.

  “See? Nowhere to go.” His hand closes around my throat, but doesn’t squeeze. “Nice that you put up a bit more effort though.”

  I glance at the ground a long way down. Launch it. “Always…choices.”

  I throw all my weight forward, knocking him off balance. His hand tightens at my throat and then releases as we both go over the edge of the rock.

  It is a long way down. Long enough for me to have time to regret my impulsive action. I might not like the fighting in the training rooms, but it doesn’t mean I like to lose.

  We land in a painful tangle of legs. I can’t breathe and my body refuses to respond to the orders I’m sending.

  Move Asher.

  Then I’m scrambling to get away but Davyd’s faster. He straddles me, holding me down with superior strength and weight. He presses me back against the smooth surface of the ground mats. Everything about him, from his cocky grin to his puffed out chest, screams victory. He leans close.