If she goaded him, would he kill her? A rifle blast would be a quick way to go. She turned to glance at him. If she lunged for the knife at his belt, would he defend himself by instinct? Or would he simply knock her away with an arm? Although not bulky, he appeared far stronger than she, with a lithe, concealed strength.
"Stop it," he said, reading her mind. "I would encourage you to be as cooperative as possible. Shit'll go better for you."
"I am going to be punished," she said. "It will not go well for me in any case."
"Maybe," he admitted.
Mira said, "I have no regrets. Everything I did, I did for them. They are safe, and that is all that matters."
"I understand," he said.
"What's your name?" Mira asked.
"Farrow."
"Do you have children, Farrow?"
"No."
"Then you do not understand at all."
He snorted. "Shit on that. I understand love. I would do anything for the woman I love, especially in a moment of desperation."
Mira shook her head. "That is not the same. Not the same at all. A person chooses a partner, decides they have attractive qualities. They spend time with them, learning about them, being with them. Knowing them. That love builds slowly, a mutual connection tended over time.
"The love for one's children is different. It requires no fostering. From the moment Kaela and Ami were born into this world I loved them with every fibre of my being. It blossomed in my heart immediately, a fire that has never diminished. It needs no reciprocation. My daughters could hate me and curse me and it would change nothing for how I feel. Tell me, your partner. Can you envision a future without her? A world where you two are separated, by either death or choice? Where you continue on alone?"
"I can," he said gruffly. "We've both accepted we may die at any time. A necessity, in our profession."
Mira nodded. "For a mother, there is no future without them. They are all that exists, the sole motivation and reason for being. I would kill for them. I would steal for them." She gave an exasperated sigh. "I would have died for them, if you had let me."
Farrow considered that. "I don't know whether or not that is true, but you make a compelling case. You should save it for the others."
"Others?"
Abruptly the ground trembled, shaking the sand all around them. "The coiled sand beasts," she blurted. "We're back in their territory. I passed it earlier."
Farrow laughed. "Coiled sand beasts?"
The vibration grew closer. "Yes," she said. "Unless you don't believe in them."
"Shit, I believe in them," he said, still not showing any alarm at all. "But we call them stingers, and they do not coil. Why are you so scared, if you want to die so badly?"
"I wanted to die by my choice, not in the belly of some monster, and certainly not at the hands of some bounty hunter who carried me off to a peacekeeper prison cell."
He pulled away the cloth covering his mouth and gave a rich laugh. Without the cloth his voice seemed more real. More human. "Peacekeeper? Shit, woman, you have no idea who I am and where we're going, do you?"
Mira hesitated. "You said you were taking me back." She looked all around. The ground shook so roughly that she thought she might lose her footing.
"Sure, I'm taking you back. But not to the city."
Mira bolted. Her desperation had grown intense enough, and she moved with fresh strength.
"Shit, wait!"
The sand seemed to give way before her, trembling in the quake, moving across the ground like water. She could not hear Farrow following, with the noise clogging her ears. He may chase me down and tie me up, but while I can move I will run.
The sand parted in front of her. It sunk into the ground like the inside of an hourglass, falling into an unseen crevasse. She stopped as the hole spread, suddenly giving way, forming into a circle ten feet wide, then twenty, then fifty. It moved toward her, an expanding blackness. She stepped back from it, too afraid to run. Did one of the sand monsters wait inside, ready to appear?
It is a better death than by the hands of the Melisao.
The hole stopped expanding. Sand along the rim drifted and fell inside in tiny streams like waterfalls. Farrow called to her but she couldn't hear the words. If I jump will it all be over?
A new roar grew, deep within the ground. Mira stared at the hole longingly. I'm sorry Kaela, Ami. I did my best. I did the only thing I could. She waited for the monster to emerge and swallow her whole.
But instead of flesh, grey metal appeared. Steel and glass, bolts and panels, stamped with letters and symbols.
The aircraft rose out of the hole with a roar of engines and fire.
It hovered into the air above her, spraying sand at her face and body like a million tiny pinpricks. It pulsed for a moment before launching across the desert to her left. It flew ten feet above the ground, the engines kicking up plumes of sand as it disappeared over the dunes.
Mira stared, mouth open and confused.
The movement of the ship made her feel dizzy with vertigo, standing so close to the edge of the hole. Her foot slipped and lost purchase, until Farrow grabbed Mira and pulled her back into darkness.
Chapter 3
"Can you hear me?"
A man's voice, distance but familiar.
"Mira? Shit. Are you awake?" Concerned and insistent.
With the breaking of crusted sand, Mira opened her eyes. A distant part of her mind knew it was night, though some sort of yellowish light shone nearby. Farrow's face filled her vision, frowning down as he examined her.
"You fainted. The heat, and dehydration."
"The spaceship..." she said. Had it been real? She wasn't sure if she'd imagined it, like the line of people in the sand.
"We'll talk about that later," Farrow said. "Can you sit up?"
Groaning, Mira pushed to her elbows. We're not outside anymore. She lay on a small cot, only a few inches above the ground, in the corner of a room barely big enough for the two of them. The air held a dank, fetid smell. It reminded her of the room she shared with her daughters back in the city.
The memory of her girls brought fresh pain.
"Here, drink this," he said, lifting a cup to her lips. It tasted like water with something sweet added. She drank slowly at first, then increasingly fast, until rivulets ran down the side of her mouth and she nearly choked. Farrow filled the cup from a larger container and she downed that one too, slower.
"Something solid, if your stomach can stand it," he said, brandishing a plate of bread. It had long since gone stale, but she took a piece.
"Where are we?"
He chuckled. "You really don't know, do you? Just a shitting accident..." he shook his head, face growing serious. "After you're done eating, you'll be questioned. Tell the truth. Everything you told me. If you're convincing, we'll let you go."
Mira dipped the bread in her cup of sweetened water to soften it. "The truth is that I'm guilty. I stole the credits from the factory foreman to save my daughters. If I tell you the truth you'll execute me for crimes against the Empire." She pictured the bodies hanging dead in the city square, traitors who stole or rebelled against the occupying Melisao.
Farrow bristled. "We are not the Melisao."
Mira took a bite from her bread. Though stale, to her pleasure she found it hearty, without any hint of sawdust having been added to the dough. She gestured with the other half of the roll. "You may be a green-eyed Praetari like me, but you surely work for the Melisao. Why else would you come after me for stealing?" She looked around the room. "I've never seen the inside of one of their prison cells, but this is what I'd imagine they look like."
"This is not a Melisao prison cell. This--"
He cut off as someone banged three times on the metal door behind him. He responded with one knock from his side, and the door opened with a squeal of rusted hinges.
She shielded her eyes from the blinding light, and when she removed her hand a new man stood in the doo
rway next to Farrow. Scrawny and tall, his dark hair was tied in eight thin braids that ran down past his shoulders. His eyes were blue.
Blue eyes.
Melisao.
"Bind her," said the new man.
Farrow approached and bent, pulling her arms behind her and wrapping them together. "Why did you even bother lying?" Mira asked. "At least be true to yourself. Don't pretend you're not a dog for the Empire when it's true for all to see."
The new man bellowed laughter.
"Shut up, Spider," Farrow said. He glanced back at Mira, said, "Be honest," and left the room. The door closed behind him, and then she and Spider were alone.
She hadn't noticed the object in his hand. Suddenly it crackled to life, a red laser arcing between two prongs. Some sort of electric prod.
The room glowed red in the flickering light.
"Scrawny bitch," he said in a deep voice that did not match his slenderness.
It was a strange juxtaposition. Out on the sand she had been ready to die. Eager for it, even. She'd made her peace and accepted her fate and had surrendered to the inevitable. Even when snatched by Farrow she clung to that expectation, so near to the end, waiting for the release. Farrow would kill her, or a sand monster would get them, or they would perish before returning to the city. Wandering the desert had changed her, drained away all that she was and left her with the hollow shell of a woman who had nothing for which to live.
Real or not, seeing that spaceship rising out of the sand had reminded her that she could escape. Food and water renewed her desire to live. She was not alone. There were other people. And somewhere, her daughters still lived.
And then Farrow replaced Spider, who watched her the way those carrion birds had watched her in the desert. Calm and hungry. Mira tensed on her cot, arms now bound behind her back.
"How did you find this place?" he asked, scratching his thumb against his thigh, making a scraping sound against his rough tan pants.
"What?" Mira blurted. The question didn't make sense. "I didn't find anything. You found me, and brought me here."
Spider stared at her, fingers scratching back and forth.
"I wandered out into the desert to die. I was ready. I laid down on the hot sand and surrendered, and that's when Farrow found me."
"You saw him coming," Spider said, gesturing with the electric prod. "Laid down, came up with that story. A bad story. You steadfast lovers think because you're dumb, everyone else will be too. But I can smell your lies. They hang over you like a stink."
He sniffed the air, then looked back down with a half-smile, half-snarl.
Steadfast lover? Mira didn't even know what a steadfast was. "I've admitted my crime to Farrow. I stole credits from an electroid factory. I did it for my daughters, to buy them passage off the planet." She ignored the fear and stuck her chin out proudly. "I regret nothing. I would do it a thousand times again, if given the chance. Nothing you do can change that, now."
Spider laughed deeply. "Your story changes already. Sure, Farrow told us everything. He said you admitted to helping the Empire, to ensure the safety of your daughters. That you came out here to spy on our compound for them."
What?
Something was very wrong. Mira didn't think she was in a Melisao prison cell after all. And despite this man's blue eyes, he acted as if the Empire were the enemy.
"There has been a mistake," she said. "The questions Farrow asked... I didn't understand. I thought he was a bounty hunter taking me back. I admitted to stealing, nothing more!"
"How did you find us?" Spider repeated.
"I didn't find anything," she insisted. Why wouldn't he believe her? "I stumbled into the desert, and that's when Farrow found me."
"Farrow gave you good advice, to speak truthfully." He made a clicking noise with his tongue and took a step forward. "A shame you will not heed it."
"I'm telling you the truth!"
He grabbed her arm and threw her against the wall. She thumped against the metal, banging her shoulder and head. Her ears rang. She slumped to her knees on the cot.
"How long have the peacekeepers known where we are?" he growled.
The walls and floor spun in her vision. She shook her head but that only made it worse.
He picked her up with both hands--the heat from the laser dangerously close to her head--and held her against the wall. The sound hissed next to her ear. "Do they know our strength? Why haven't they fallen upon us in force?"
"I don't know," she shook her head frantically, desperate for him to believe her. Her back stung and something moist ran down her spine. Pus from her sun blisters bursting.
"You don't know," he repeated, breath sour like decay. His eyes bore into her with hate. "You don't know?"
He whirled her in his grasp, throwing her across the room. Her foot tripped over the edge of the cot and she fell against the lone door, head making a sickening crack. Light flashed in her vision and for a few moments she saw nothing.
"When are they coming?" Spider screamed. She felt his presence over her, though she still could not see. "Why have they not yet destroyed us?"
"I don't... I can't..." Mira had trouble thinking, like her head had been filled with Praetari wire-cotton.
The door moved, pushing her out of the way as the hinges screamed. "What the shit are you doing?" Farrow demanded. "You agreed not to harm..."
"She knows," Spider said, the laser humming through the air as he gestured. "She knows, and she refuses to tell us. We ought to throw her to the stingers, piece by cursed piece."
"Get out," Farrow demanded. "Leave me with her. Now."
Mira's vision slowly returned. Spider stared with fury. "Akonai gave me explicit instructions to--"
"Now."
The sudden authority in Farrow's voice won. Spider spat a wad of phlegm at Mira--striking the ground nearby--and pushed out of the room.
Farrow let out a long sigh. He closed the door and then regarded Mira. "Shit. You really should tell the truth, you know."
"I did," she whispered.
He helped her off the ground and onto the cot. He paced back and forth in the tiny space, arms crossed, for several minutes.
"Above, in the desert. I was not specific. I said you were not innocent, that you knew what you had done and what you intended, and you agreed with me. You told me you did everything for your daughters, for their safety off this planet."
Mira nodded. She felt safer with Farrow than Spider, but not by much.
"Ahh, shit. That mistake is mine. I assumed... doesn't shitting matter now. What is it you claim to have done? I will hear all of it, from the beginning."
She began in the factory, assembling electroid parts on a conveyor belt with dozens of other women. She explained saving up every glass credit they paid her, halving their meals for months, going hungry so her daughters could eat. Saving so they could visit the Station, where Bruno launched freighters full of Praetari off the miserable planet. Until Ami had grown sick, and the cost of medicine drained their savings. Medicine helped, but only for a time, and it was prohibitively expensive.
So she had sneaked into the factory foreman's office, stealing hundreds of the precious credits. With the Melisao surely after her, she'd rushed her daughters to the Station to buy their trip off the planet.
Except she was too late, and only room for two passengers remained. So she'd sent her daughters on alone, promising them she would follow on the next freighter. A promise she had no way to keep.
And with the Melisao surely searching for her, she had wandered out into the desert to die, a final desperate act.
Farrow listened quietly. His face remained a mask except for the end, when she described watching her daughters soar away on a ship to safety. Something close to sadness flashed, then. "And this is the truth," he said.
"Yes."
"You realize the odds of finding this place randomly are shitting low."
"I don't know," Mira said. "I still don't even know what this place is."
He sighed again, and ran a hand through his hair. Sand cascaded down his coat and onto the ground. "I don't know if the others will believe you. Stars shit on me, I'm not sure if I do myself."
"You gave an order to him," she said. "Are you in charge?"
"That is a complicated question with a complicated answer." And with that he opened the door and left, the sound of a metal bolt sliding into place behind him.
Mira waited for someone else to follow. No one did.
She looked around her small room, lit with dirty light by the yellow bulb recessed in the ceiling. Worn and rusted metal surrounded her. Aside from her cot, a lone bucket occupied the other corner opposite the door. Mira shuddered when she realized its purpose.
Where was this place? Sand bunched up at the seams where floor and wall met, but that could have been leftover from their desert trek. She could feel a low, pulsing vibration in her feet every few seconds. Distant, like machinery.
The ground, she remembered. It had opened up before her, and a spaceship had flown out. The more she focused on the memory, the more real it felt. But ships didn't just emerge from the sand. Something had to be there. Farrow had said she found this place randomly. A desert base, hidden beneath the sand?
No, that couldn't be true. Nothing lived out in the desert, nothing but perrin roots and carrion birds. And the sand beasts. Stingers. Yet she knew what she'd seen.
Laying down on the cot proved difficult with her arms tied behind her back, so she curled up on her side facing the wall. There was no blanket--she wouldn't have been able to cover herself even if there were--but with the room so humid she didn't need one.
The small space reminded her of the room she shared with her girls. She would huddle with them and tell them stories until they fell asleep, and then Mira would stare at the wall, at the cubby hole where she stored all their saved credits. She'd been so hopeful, then.
Born of Sand (Tales of a Dying Star Book 5) Page 2
