by Naomi Fraser
“Lasers,” I mutter. “The newest tech available.”
His mouth tightens. “What type of foam is this?”
I stalk to the counter and click open the Med Box, displaying everything inside. “I took this from the spaceship after they shot her. I’ve seen similar medicine on my home planet. I’ve used the foam before in my healing routine, but not often.”
“Ah.” Chester moves over to investigate the contents, then he sighs. “There’s not enough here to heal her over the course of weeks.” He crosses back to the table and studies Maybelle’s wound for long moments. “We can buy more, however the quickest and surest method is tissue regeneration.”
I try to quell the uneasy, tossing sensation in the pit of my stomach. “Do you have a Med Gen Capsule on board?”
“We do . . .” He hesitates, as though not wanting to be the bearer of terrible news. “But it’s an old one and not really suitable for a child.”
My knees shake with relief. “Any type is better than none at all. Can you put her in there now?” My voice trembles.
“Of course . . . but understand there are no guarantees. With that kind of damage, well, all we can try to do is get hold of another Med Gen Capsule in the meantime.”
“Yes. Yes. Thank you.”
Marcus stalks back into the room without Casey and asks, “How is she, Doc?”
“She needs the Med Gen Capsule, and then I’ll see to Casey. I’ll get on the wire after tending him about a new Med Gen Capsule, though they’re not cheap, and the model will be restricted due to credits—”
“I can get the extra credits for you,” I offer. “I’m a water healer. Stop at a city without water, and I’ll get more than enough. Just order her the best Med Gen Capsule you can.”
“A water healer?” Chester frowns at me, then he looks at Marcus who gives him a nod.
“She’s what we’ve been looking for in regards to the water,” Marcus says.
Chester’s eyebrows rise, but he moves toward another door inside the clinic and presses a sequence on a silver keypad. The door unlocks and swings wide.
“I’ll see to the rest of the crew.” Marcus’s voice comes from behind me, and my body tingles in awareness. “Order whatever she wants. I want an update when the girl’s in the capsule, Doc,” he calls out and then exits the room.
The doctor wheels an old, rusting Med Gen Capsule into the room, and my heart clutches at the sight of it.
“I know,” Chester says, staring into my eyes. “But it’s all we have. Let’s get your sister inside.”
*
The aroma of rich spices and cooked meat fills my breath. Hunger twists knots inside my stomach, and I lift my head from my forearm, cheek numb. I can’t breathe from the unbearable pain. Finally, the contraction weakens, and I inhale some deliciously scented air, feeling disoriented.
I study Maybelle through the arched glass of the Med Gen Capsule, a tissue-specific regeneration pod. The blue light beneath her body emphasises dark shadows under her eyes, her thin skin, and blonde hair. The doctor set the capsule to automatic, and every few seconds, distinct sounds regenerate May’s tissues. The frequency is lower than my hearing range, but my sister’s hair wavers in the vibration.
A clear tube hooks from the head of the capsule, pushing fluids into her nostril. There is nothing much I can do except sit and watch. Another twisting pain grips my stomach, and I hold my breath. The grumbling in my belly sounds like it’s eating at itself. I pant, trying to ride out the pain, but I’m stuck on the chair.
“Come on,” a familiar voice drawls from the doorway. “I can’t see you helping her much if you die from hunger.”
I glance up at Marcus, gratitude flooding me, but I shake my head, unable to answer.
A gentle hand touches my elbow and pulls me to my feet. The room turns black before I sway.
“Hang on,” he whispers into my ear. “Grab onto my shoulder.” Even though his tone is soft, the words are unmistakably an order.
I slide my hand up the smooth cotton of his shirt to the suspender strap over his broad shoulder, and his muscles tense beneath my palm. Heat radiates through the fabric. I lean against him, and his voice sounds tighter than normal.
“Now we’ll go get you some lunch. It’s midday. Everyone’s dying to meet you.”
“I can’t see,” I say, unsure of where to walk. My knees shake, and a dizzying weakness rushes through my legs. I lean into him more, and his solid chest stops me from collapsing.
“You’re about to pass out from starvation. Take a second.”
I blink, then blink again, waiting for the colours to come through in the room. Finally, I find Marcus’s brown boots filling my sight, and my gaze travels up his tan trousers. I nod, and he says, “Great. Let’s get you fed.”
I tread carefully alongside him, holding onto his shoulder. His left arm snakes around my waist and draws me in closer to muscles I’ve read about in the facility or seen in x-ray on male specimens. I don’t think I’ve felt anything quite as startling. A musky warmth invades my nose; it’s from the cleanness of his shirt—he must have put on a fresh one—and a faint manly sweat clings to his neck. My knees wobble.
I hear arguing voices the closer I get to the smell of food.
“I want to know how, that’s all I’m saying,” a high-pitched voice says. “Can you imagine that kind of tech?”
“It’s not a machine,” a woman’s voice replies. “Didn’t you hear what the Cap’n just said?”
“Right. She’s a woman.”
We turn right, and he says loudly, “Watch your step. We’re about to enter the kitchen.”
The noise dies, and I reach for the curved door jamb. I’ve seen doors like this on submarine pictures in the facility. I duck my head to follow him through. “Sorry about this, I just got so dizzy.” I let my gaze travel up to meet his frown.
“Are you all right to sit?”
“Yes.” Just don’t expect me to get up in a hurry.
“When did you last eat?” he asks, eyes dark with obvious anger.
“When we escaped, five days ago.”
“Geoff, get a plate of food for her,” Marcus calls over his shoulder. “Take a seat,” he says to me and steps back.
A long rectangular table with people around it jumps into focus. Eight, and Marcus makes nine. He pulls out a chair closest to the door, and then I sit down. A rather thick-set man with orange blond hair and a bristly moustache sets a plate with meat in a rich, golden sauce on top of rice before me. My stomach flips and rolls loudly. I pick up my knife and fork and then do nothing except eat for the next ten minutes.
Eating transforms into a heavenly experience, one where the rich combination of tender meat, smooth sauce, and deep flavours of roasted vegetables merge with an incredibly delicious aroma. When I sit back with a sigh and an empty plate, pain rips across my stomach, and it takes me a while to get my breath back. Water twists around my waist, seeping back into my skin and the nausea starts to fade.
“It’s been too long since your last meal,” Chester says.
I look up at him, but say nothing.
“I’d like to see you in the clinic after you get settled in. You might need some vitamin shots.”
After a few minutes, I no longer feel like I’m going to vomit, and I meet everyone’s gaze at the table.
“This is my crew,” Marcus says in his deep voice. “Zach, Casey, and Chester you’ve met. This is Sarah, our pilot; Rick, the mechanic; April, a gun hand; and Constance, resident know-it-all and cultural expert. The man who put the food in front of you is Geoff.”
They all nod and say a quick hello.
I rest my forearms on the table, stack my knife and fork neatly in the centre and then push my hair back from my face. I know what I must look like. I probably shouldn’t worry about appearances, but if I’m going to save Maybelle, I need this crew to have no doubts about me. At the facility we always had to look presentable.
“How do you do?” I say
formally. “I’m Victoria Undine, a water healer.”
“We do just great,” Marcus says. “Question. The blue around your fingers earlier today. When that man from the settlement tried to catch you, your fingers went blue, and you aimed them at him like it was some type of weapon. Then your whole body—”
“Erupted with water. Yes.” I tilt my head and study him, the smooth colour of his hair and the intensity in his gaze. “It can be used as a weapon, although I wasn’t trained to kill.”
Dead silence drops in the kitchen. Plates and knifes don’t clank. “What do you mean by that?” Marcus leans across the table toward me. “A water healer doesn’t hurt people?”
“No—well, I was trained not to, so I don’t like doing it. Killing feels wrong here.” I hold a fist over my heart, looking at my empty plate, resisting the urge to ask for more food. “But I have a couple of times to save Maybelle’s life.”
“So that’s why you’re called a healer,” Sarah says. “Makes sense.”
“A water healer is one of my names. Some call me a water healer, others a water elemental. I can control and create water. I was born with the gift. When that man grabbed me, I was going to suck the water from his body.”
“You can do that?” April gasps from further down the table. “How cool is that?”
“The soldiers,” Marcus begins, “that’s how you stopped them. They didn’t look like dust to me though on the screen.”
“I’ve tried to escape once before, and they created a synthetic biofilm to stop me drawing water from their bodies. When the government’s ship came for us, they used a sound defence that can kill, so I gave myself up.”
“You did?” Disappointment echoes in April’s voice.
“So what happened?” Casey croaks, spooning food in his mouth, his gaze on me.
“I wanted to give May enough time to get away. We were with Old Order followers, and she would have been safe until I came for her again. But May didn’t leave and tried to stop me getting onto the ship. She shot the acting president, and then the soldiers shot her.”
Zach grips his knife and fork. “Tell me you dished out something extreme.”
“I didn’t mean to. I pinpointed the organs I needed to drain, figuring I would push all the water to their feet. Drain them just enough so they couldn’t get up, but I . . .”
“Killed them instead.” Marcus pops some food in his mouth and chews. “Sounds all right to me. You killed them to protect yours. How long were you prisoner?”
“Mercenaries sold us to the government just over two years ago. Maybelle was five.” I grow quiet as I remember my little sister back then, and again I hold back tears. “I guess you could say I don’t have pure human stock. My mother was human, my father a fire elemental. But my gift comes from my paternal grandfather. He was a water healer, and Nana controlled fire like my father. I don’t remember much about my dad. His need to use the flame made others kill him.”
“Is your sister like you?” Marcus asks.
I shake my head. “No, she’s my half-sister. We share the same human mother, but have a different father. My step-father was human.”
“Was?” Zach asks.
“They were both killed when I turned twenty-three, the legal age for my release from the facility. By Echyion law, I had to be released. Maybelle was almost killed, and we were both put into our Nana’s care. She was hard to find . . . had been in hiding for many years. After two months there, mercenaries came, shot her dead, and then stole Maybelle. I had to do what they wanted if she was to survive.”
“And here you are.” The softness of Marcus’s voice beckons me.
“Concerning the Med Gen Capsule.” I look at Chester. “Were you able to order a new one?”
“Yes,” he says, pushing the food around on his plate. “They’ve placed it on reserve, but they require payment upfront due to our lending quality. It’s three million credits.”
Marcus stiffens, Casey swears, and then Zach discusses places to rob.
“No,” I interrupt. “What’s the nearest planet that needs water?”
“Altiosn,” Sarah and Constance say at once. “Why?”
They still don’t understand who they have on board. I turn to Marcus. “Offer them a trade. I will create the water they need for three million credits. Maybe even offer a direct trade to the owners of the Med Gen Capsule.”
“They won’t need it.” Chester shakes his head. “They have more than enough credits to get what they want.”
“And they might have seen the broadcast about the reward for you,” Marcus points out. “You could be playing right into their hands.”
I frown. “Is that possible?”
“I’m not sure.” His lips twist. “But it’s something we have to watch out for.”
“Yes. Then I will uphold my deal with you about the water,” I say to Marcus. “You are saving my sister and keeping your word, so I will keep mine and give you what you need.”
Marcus cocks an eyebrow, his eyes full of amusement. One corner of his mouth pulls into a slight smile. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say, but the quiet, lingering way he looks at me makes my heart jump.
Chapter Seven
The ringing of a kitchen buzzer jerks my attention away from Marcus, and I drop my gaze. A bright overhead light glints off the metal fork on my plate, the glare contrasting with the air-conditioning. Sarah and Constance stack their plates on the kitchen bench, obviously preparing to leave. I tip my head to let my hair curtain my face. I’ve never encountered this situation in the facility, because there weren’t groups of people, and in Oshiro, the guards never let me go anywhere without an armed escort.
“Lunch is over. Everyone has to get back to work.”
I glance up at Marcus, startled, then I stand, ignoring the uneasy sensation in my stomach.
He grins. “You looked a little lost.”
“I’m not sure of the protocol on board a ship, but preparation for visiting Altiosn’s leaders must be undertaken immediately,” I say, averting my gaze. “As a water healer, it’s necessary to conduct—”
“No worries. Sarah’s lent you some clothes,” April says from the end of the table. I glance at her, and she tosses her black ponytail over her shoulder. As she stands, she reveals long black pants and a wide pistol belt. “And I’ll show you to your room. You can get cleaned up.”
“You’ll need to make an appearance on screen,” Marcus says. “There’s a good chance they won’t believe us.”
“Of course.” I can’t seem to move my gaze from his face. Perhaps it’s the symmetry. A sudden thought occurs to me, and I blink in surprise. It’s the life inside his skin. The only male dominant figure in my life has been Astrakhan, and he was devoid of life. Living beings are capable of treachery, endangering the life of everyone by selling me for monetary gain. And although Marcus’s lips aren’t smiling, his eyes are, and I find myself smiling widely back at him.
“I will do everything possible to ensure the transaction goes smoothly. You will be rewarded for helping me with this,” I say.
“That’s . . . uh . . . always good to hear.” He stares back into my eyes.
“Not that I’m, well, forgetting—that is—I’ll remember our bargain. You need me for something else, and I haven’t forgotten our deal in the tavern.”
He nods, the supple muscles in his body tensing as he stands. The space between us seems to electrify, growing in intensity, until I can’t help leaning a little closer to him.
Rick nudges April with his elbow. “And if you go with April, that gives you time to go into detail about all your awesome killing methods, Victoria.”
April grins, her teeth a white slash against her warm brown skin. She rubs her hands together. “That stuff keeps me going,” she announces and then stalks around the table to stack her plate on the kitchen bench. She leans against the edge and crosses her ankles. “You know it does.”
Zach laughs and then says, “Remember she said
she’s a healer? Not a killer?”
April flashes him another grin. “I heard.”
Rick’s chuckle reverberates around the kitchen, and he rests his hands at the back of his head. “Prepare to be corrupted.” He winks at me.
“Err . . . about that shower . . .” Geoff says from the kitchen. “Might need to be a quick one. Have to go easy on the water for a while until—”
“Show me your containers for water storage, and I’ll fill them up.” I break free of Marcus’s pull to copy April’s movements of taking my plate into the kitchen. I grip the plate with both hands over the sink, and the blue wraps around my hands, spiralling to my fingers. The density spikes across my awareness, and water sluices down the plate. Once clean, I set the cleaned utensils on the dish rack.
Preparing meals in the facility happens on days when the program environment showed still, cool skies, although Echyion is beautiful. An orange rack. Silver bench tops. No one else except for an instruction screen sliding across the ceiling. Every other day, my meal came prepared. A sudden pang of remembered loneliness hits me, and I glance up to discover everyone’s gaze on me. I blink back the pain and tears, focusing on my hands. Water skims inches from my skin, hangs suspended in the air in small drops and then evaporates into nothing.
“Well.” April straightens. She opens her mouth to say something else, but nothing comes out. She looks to Marcus.
He stares at my hands, and then his gaze travels up to my face. “Pull the water from someone’s body,” he mumbles, as if talking to himself. “Dangerous.”
My teeth set, and a weird sensation travels from my heart up to my neck, filtering my mouth with a metallic flavour. I clench my hands into fists and withdraw them beside my skirt. He doesn’t need to tell me—I know. I am dangerous.
He just keeps staring, his brow creasing over his deep blue eyes.
“I’m ready.” I round the bench, nearing April. She nods and heads for the door. I fall into step behind her, holding up the hem of my walking skirt to make it through the doorway without tripping.
“So—flooding Oshiro?” April’s black combat boots strike the floor with her easy strides, and the walkways echo. “That was some tricked-out stuff. It’s what brought us here in the first place.”
