She pointed to another spot some distance from her sister’s home. Everything between the two locations was flashing red.
“You can’t possibly think you can get through all of that,” he said.
“They’re not interested in me,” she said.
It’s you they want. That’s what she wasn’t saying. If she could just get rid of him, she’d be free to make her way across the city to her sister and run. He couldn’t even blame her for thinking it.
“You don’t have to run,” he said, keeping his voice low, switching back to Allortasian. “I could help you…”
“Why would you do that?” she said, voice just barely above a whisper.
“Because,” he said, but before he could finish his thought, Marta slammed a box down on her desk.
The cat yelped, jumping to its feet, back arched, hair standing on end, before treating Marta to a baleful glare.
“If you will insist on sleeping on my desk, Mouse…” Marta said. She scratched behind its ears, and, after some consideration, it appeared to forgive her.
“Mouse?” Cael said to Asha.
“I know,” Asha replied, shooting him a small grin.
Marta swiped dust from the top of the box, then opened it, pulling out what looked like some sort of communication radio.
“A police radio?” Asha said, stepping up beside Marta as she clicked it on. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably not,” Marta said, plugging in a charging dock and setting the radio down in to it. “But all the radios in the Met are tuned to this frequency. We’ll be broadcasting to every officer on duty in the wider London area, but once our Superintendent gets the message, she can tell us the number for her radio and we can contact her directly.”
“Well, at least we know the officers are going to be too busy to arrest us,” Asha said.
Already there were voices coming over the radio, strained sounding, even through the crackle of bad signal. People talked constantly, some voices directing units to different places, others saying they couldn’t possibly leave the place they were at, that things weren’t yet back under control. Cael felt a deep sympathy for anyone trying to regain control of the city right now. Police officers were just ordinary men and women, doing their jobs, hoping that the day would end with them going home to their families. Not in a hospital bed, or worse.
“They’ve got to call the army in soon, surely,” Marta said, looking up at the still spreading sea of red on the city map.
“It’s only going to get worse when it gets dark,” Asha said.
Marta took the radio from its cradle and examined it. “Okay, think we’ve got enough charge. Let’s give this a go.” She pressed a button on the top, silencing the noise of everyone talking. “This is a message for Superintendent Katherine Jackson. I have something I think you are going to want. Please give me a means of contacting you directly to discuss. Thank you.”
As soon as Marta released the button, there was a clamour of static and voices trying to speak over each other. Then, a female voice cut across the noise. “Who is this? How do you have a police radio?”
“Not important questions, Ma’am,” Marta answered. “Now give me your number so I can point-to-point you.”
For a moment, the radio fell completely silent, as if the entire Metropolitan police force had a collective intake of breath. Then the same female voice answered, giving them a number. Marta messed around with the radio a moment, then pressed the button again.
“Superintendent Jackson?” she said.
“Speaking,” the woman responded.
“I’m trying to get in touch with Tarkken H’Arran.”
She minced the pronunciation a little, but Superintendent Jackson clearly knew who she meant.
“I guessed as much. What do you want?”
Cael gestured for Marta to give him the radio.
“She doesn’t want anything,” he said in Allortasian, knowing the Superintendent would have a translator of some form. “She’s just trying to help.”
There was a pause, and then Tarkken’s voice came over the radio, sounding tense, but relieved.
“Sir, are you alright? I’ve been trying to comm you. We’ve been worried.”
“I’m perfectly fine, as is Asha. My comm did not survive the crush, but otherwise we’re not hurt. What’s the situation there?”
“Chaos, as you can imagine. But none of ours are hurt. We’re at the hotel currently, waiting for things to calm down.”
“Randar and Cribishk?”
“Both fine. Both mortified that they allowed themselves to get separated from you.”
Cael breathed a sigh of relief. “It wasn’t their fault. Everything happened so quickly. The crowds… Everyone was running in different directions. By the time I could stop and think, we’d been swept away from each other.”
Silence rang out for a few moments, and Cael knew Tarkken didn’t agree with him.
“Have you been able to get hold of Angela?”
Both Marta and Asha looked at him, as if the sound of a Human name had piqued their interest.
“She called us from her friend’s house - she’s fine. Safe and happy to wait there until someone can go and get her when things calm down a bit.”
“Good,” Cael said, shedding another weight of worry from his shoulders.
“What about you? Can you wait there?”
Cael didn’t need to see the slight shake of Asha’s head to know it wasn’t an option. Marta’s home was barely big enough for one person, never mind three.
“No.” He looked at the map. The red dominated the screen, but it hadn’t spread quite as far out as Heathrow Airport yet. “What about the shuttle? Is it still operational? It doesn’t look like the riots have spread that far.”
“It should be,” Tarkken said. “You think you can get out there?”
Cael looked to Asha.
“I can get you there,” she said, no trace of uncertainty in her expression or voice. Her calmness in the face of all the chaos, her confidence in her own abilities. Cael found it unbearably attractive.
“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “We can get there. I’ll call you once we’re on board.”
“Yes, sir,” Tarkken responded.
After a brief pause, the Superintendent spoke again.
“And who has possession of this radio?”
Marta clicked the radio off, a slightly guilty look on her face.
Chapter 9
ASHA TOLD CAEL TO WAIT IN the kitchen while she helped Marta pack away the radio, which was such an obvious ploy to get him out of the room, she expected him to call her on it. He didn’t, just nodded and stepped out without protest, closing the door behind him.
“You’ve got him well trained already,” Marta said.
“He’s just polite.”
“He can take a hint - that’s an admirable quality in a man.”
Marta waggled her eyebrows, a suggestive grin on her face.
“Maybe,” Asha said. “But he’s still an alien prince who a hundred percent would not be interested in the likes of me if I wasn’t keeping him safe.”
“Oh? Perhaps I’m mistaken in detecting a bit of chemistry between the two of you?”
Asha blushed, grateful for the dingy light of Marta’s computer room and the way the monitor glow bled colour out of everything.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “The poor guy is probably in shock after everything that’s happened today. The only thing between us is shared trauma.”
Marta smirked, her lips twitching as she tried to contain her amusement.
“You’ve broken two sacred rules today - calling before twelve and bringing a stranger to my house. I was all prepared to be pissed at you, but this...”
She started laughing, though she was trying to be quiet about it, her shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.
“You know I wouldn’t have broken the rules if it wasn’t an emergency,” Asha said. “And it’s not funny.”
“Come on,” Marta said, her eyes watering a little. “You have to admit, it’s a little bit funny.”
She swiped away a tear with a finger, still grinning. Then she went quiet, and Asha really started to worry.
“You seem awfully sure it doesn’t work,” Marta said. “Is it just because it Matched you with a prince or…”
“What other reason do you need?” Asha said. “I am not exactly princess material, am I?”
“Clearly somebody thought you were.”
“Clearly they were wrong.”
Marta gave her a searching look. “Are you telling me he doesn’t make you feel all tingly in your lady parts?”
“You’re disgusting,” Asha said.
“And you’re not answering the question,” Marta said, like this proved something. “Come on, Ash, you’d have to be blind not to see how attractive he is.” She grimaced as she realised what she’d said. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“If you think he’s so attractive, why don’t you see if he wants to swap?” Asha said, cutting her off.
“Because he’s not looking at me like I’m edible,” Marta said. She sat back a little, a thoughtful look on her face. “He asked after that Angela girl, didn’t he? The one who they’re saying is the first successful Human Match.”
“Wouldn’t want to lose their marketing material,” Asha said, but she knew she was being unfair. She’d heard the concern in his voice, seen the relief when Tarkken had said Angela was fine.
“Maybe…” Marta didn’t look convinced. “Or maybe it does actually work?”
“Of course it doesn’t actually work,” Asha said, irritation getting the better of her.
“But what if it does? Think about it, Ash, you would never have to worry about the likes of Crastor ever again. No more slaving away at the restaurant for Nell. Mikey could go to all the best schools…”
“And I just have to promise to spend the rest of my life with a guy I’ve only just met who isn’t even from this planet?”
Marta’s grin turned wicked. “Well, it wouldn’t exactly be difficult, would it?”
She mimed fanning herself. Then her grin faded, and she looked at Asha, all serious. “If they were faking the test, they wouldn’t have Matched their Prince, would they? A bodyguard, sure. Some unimportant person they can pay to look happy and smile for the cameras to get more Humans to sign up. I could believe that. But a Prince? Why would he lower himself to being paired off with some Human car mechanic if it was just to get Humanity on board? Surely he’s better off not Matched - that way more people might sign up in the hopes of being Matched with him.”
There was logic in what she was saying, Asha had to admit. The thought terrified her.
“What are you trying to say?” she said.
“I’m saying… Crastor gave you forty eight hours, right? Maybe a little bit more because you’re right, he can’t possibly expect you to get anywhere while all these riots are going on. Maybe you should get on that shuttle with your Prince. Practise not being an iceberg.”
Asha gave her a dour look.
“Come on - even if the test is bullshit, he’s still cute and I’m not getting any asshole vibes from him.”
“Oh, you’re an asshole detector now?”
“I am,” Marta said. “It’s right there on my CV. An A grade in asshole detection.”
“I don’t recall that class at school.”
“They didn’t let you enrol - concerned you’d use your newly acquired skills to find dates.”
“Shut up!”
Marta’s wicked grin returned. “Well, if you decide to practise defrosting or not, at least sleep with him, how many people can say they’ve slept with a prince?”
“I can’t say it’s something on my bucket list,” Asha said.
“It should be on everybody’s bucket list,” Marta said.
Mercifully, Marta kept her opinions about sexual bucket lists to herself as they headed back into her kitchen. Cael was sat at the table, toying with the smashed up comm.
“That does not look like it’s very well,” Marta said as she sat down, almost physically wincing at the sight of it.
“Marta likes electronics more than people,” Asha said in response to Cael’s questioning look.
“Electronics are logical and dependable,” Marta said, her fingers twitching a little.
“You think you can fix it?” Cael asked.
“I think I would love to try.”
To Asha’s surprise, he pushed the smashed up comm over to Marta. “What’s the phrase Humans use…” he said. “Knock yourself out?”
“That would be accurate in this context,” Marta said, running her fingers reverently over the broken device.
Asha knew Marta would be occupied for the next twenty-four hours - at least - trying to unlock the secrets of the device, that Marta would likely forgo eating and sleeping in her enthusiasm for the project. She figured Cael had to be pretty confident she wouldn’t be able to do it, but Cael didn’t know Marta well. If it was possible for a Human to do it, Asha thought Marta had a good shot.
“Let’s go,” she said to Cael, before he changed his mind and broke Marta’s heart.
Marta promised to keep an eye on the riots for them and direct them round any trouble. As they were driving right to the outskirts of London, Asha thought it unlikely they’d come across any, but she flicked on the radio in the van as she pulled away, scanning through the channels for a news broadcast, eventually finding one.
“Chaos in the city of London as riots break out…” the newsreader said.
For the next few minutes, Asha and Cael listened in silence as the newsreader outlined the wide spread of the violence, the anti-Intergalactic Community message, and the number of people injured - thankfully not many, and only one serious. It was followed by some speculation as to who had instigated it all.
“The attack today was intended to provoke fear among families enjoying a celebration,” a police spokesman said. “It was organised, coordinated and, ultimately, effective. Investigators are working tirelessly to identify the perpetrators and we urge anyone with information to contact the Metropolitan Police, or Crimestoppers, as soon as they can. And to the general public, may we urge you to remain at home tonight. Anybody participating in rioting, looting and violence will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Stay home, stay safe. Thank you.”
Asha hit the radio’s power button.
For a moment, they drove in silence, Asha’s focus on the road ahead of them, only the directions of her satnav interrupting the quiet.
She could feel Cael’s eyes on her, though, an itching awareness of his gaze on her skin. It made her uncomfortable, but not because she didn’t want him looking at her. Rather because she liked it a little too much that he did.
“Bet you’ll be glad to be back on the Station,” Asha said, reminding herself who he was, what he was, before her body could get carried away again. She was driving slow enough that she didn’t have to yell at him over the breeze coming in through the smashed windows.
“I’ll be glad when everyone is back on the station,” Cael said. “Until then, I shall settle for merely being relieved.”
Something heavy settled in the air of the van between them. Asha shifted under the weight of it, glancing across to him to see his blue eyes burning in to her.
“You won’t be coming with me, will you?” he said.
“Does it hurt your pride that I’m not falling in to your arms like some swooning character in a fairytale?” Asha said.
“Not my pride, no.”
Asha’s back stiffened, embarrassment warring with anger. This was just Daneel all over again, another guy with unrealistic expectations, blaming her when they didn’t get what they wanted. Even though she’d never promised them anything.
And Crastor. Goddamned Crastor forcing her into this situation. Because she was just someone he could use to get what he wanted. Because she’d had to put herself in his power, beca
use some other person had decided they would rather let children go blind than offer life-changing treatment on the NHS. She let these thoughts run through her mind, building up the fury, letting it come between her and the prince like a shield.
Anger was easier. If she was angry, she didn’t have to think about the other stuff. Like the way her whole body felt like it was on fire when Cael had looked at her and said ‘you don’t have to run.’
Good God, she had wanted to believe him.
She hated herself for wanting to believe him. That way lay madness. She couldn’t depend on him. Couldn’t depend on anyone but Marta and Nell. Everyone else always left. Always.
“Asha, do you want to pull over?” Cael said. “You’re gripping the steering wheel a little tight.”
Asha glanced at her knuckles. They were white as bone. She pulled the van over, then pried her fingers off the steering wheel, shaking them out, before switching the engine off.
“What are you thinking?” Cael asked, voice soft, low.
Asha pushed a hand through her hair. “I’m thinking this day has been a complete shit show.”
It was the truth, and a barb meant to hurt him. She couldn’t handle him being nice to her any more. Between Marta’s cool logic and Cael’s heated gaze, she felt in danger of unravelling.
He’s not looking at me like I’m edible…
“I’m fine,” she said. “I can still get you to Heathrow. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried about that,” he said. “Asha…”
“Don’t,” she snapped. “We don’t have time for this. I’ve got to get you to Heathrow, then get back across the city before it gets dark.”
“Asha, we can spare five minutes…”
“For what?” She turned to him, letting her anger spill out. “So you can try to damage control? I’m not going to tell anyone that the Match program is a scam, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have to disappear to get away from Crastor. That won’t work if I’m selling my story to the papers, will it? Your secret is safe with me.”
“It’s not a scam, I...”
“If you try to tell me you’re in love with me, so help me God, I will…”
Cael Page 8
