by R. M. Olson
“Yes,” said Ysbel. She kept her face expressionless, but her mind was racing, her muscles shaky.
Damn.
Tae had warned them the patches wouldn’t hold forever.
She didn’t need them to hold forever. Just a few more days.
“I am sorry,” she said after a moment, her voice relentlessly steady. “I don’t know anything about this.”
The woman narrowed her eyes, but Ysbel had had years of practice in keeping her face blank.
“Someone has been trying to hack into the system. Believe me. It’s been tried before. It won’t work.”
Ysbel said nothing, and after a long, long moment, the warden sighed and straightened.
“Very well,” she said at last, gesturing for the guard. “You may go. But,” she paused, and gave Ysbel a meaningful look. “If you know something about this, I’m warning you. It will go better for you if you tell me now than if I find out on my own.”
“I told you,” said Ysbel sullenly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I hope, for your sake, that’s true,” said the woman in a level voice. “But if for some reason your memory gets jogged, I believe I could arrange—” she paused delicately. “Some benefit for you if you were to tell me what you know.”
Ysbel didn’t deign to answer, despite the cold fingers constricting around her heart, just sat staring at the woman with her flattest gaze until at last she sighed and turned away, waving her hand at the guard as she went.
“Prisoner,” said the nervous guard. “If you’d stand, please—”
She stood, and followed him out of the room and down to the mess hall, where the others were already eating. She cast a quick glance around the room. Lev was back, his face cut with a frown. Had they taken him to be questioned as well? And what in the system had Jez been up to?
The knot of worry in her stomach didn’t ease, not during their evening break in the courtyard, not during the time they waited for lights out, not as she poured cartridges, her fingers working the familiar materials almost unconsciously.
“Lev?” she asked at last. “You weren’t in the line for prisoner count at dinner.”
He glanced up, his face preoccupied. “No. I wasn’t. They asked me in for questioning.”
“Questioning? For what?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was troubled. “They wanted to know if I knew the four of you. They wouldn’t tell me why.”
“They told me,” she said quietly. “Apparently, someone’s noticed what we’re doing.”
Lev stopped what he was doing. “What?”
“They’ve noticed supplies going missing, and production going down. And the warden said she’s noticed someone trying to hack into the system.”
“That’s not good,” said Lev softly. “That’s not good at all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
JEZ, SECTOR 1, Day 9
“Jez!”
She started, jerking her vision from the distorted view of the sky through the force field. One of Radic’s friends gestured to her frantically. She glanced in the direction he was pointing, and swore softly.
Zhurov was walking in her direction across the crowded courtyard.
She glanced around quickly, then slipped into the meal line. Her heart was pounding.
She was pretty sure the other guards wouldn’t step in again.
The entire endless prisoner count she couldn’t keep her hands still, fingers drumming restlessly against her thigh. She ducked her head, trying to blend in, and held her breath as they shuffled through the line and past the food tables.
She just needed to keep out of sight a couple more days. That was all.
Still—she let out a breath of relief as she sat down at a work table in the back. That actually hadn’t been so hard. And besides, Radic’s people were looking out for her. It would be fine.
A shadow fell across her table, and before she had time to react, a heavy hand came down on her shoulder. She swallowed, tasting a sick fear in her throat, and glanced up.
Zhurov stood over her, and he was smiling.
“Jez Solokov,” he said softly. “I think you’d better come with me.”
Damn, damn, damn.
She grinned up at him, narrowing her eyes, muscles shaky with adrenalin. “Nah. Think I’ll stay right here.”
He tightened his hand around her shoulder and jerked her to her feet. “Get up.”
“Hey now,” she managed as he dragged her upright.
“Jez,” Lev hissed in her earpiece. “Yell for the guards.”
For a moment she hesitated. But it was Lev, and for some crazy reason, she trusted him, so she opened her mouth and shouted as loudly as she could. Zhurov twisted her arm up behind her back, hard enough that tears came to her eyes.
“Shut up, Solokov,” he growled. “No one’s coming.”
And then there were three pairs of running footsteps, and someone shouted breathlessly, “Let her go, Zhurov.”
He tightened his grip on her arm, and she gasped in pain, and then he shoved her to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, but Zhurov wasn’t watching her anymore. He was glaring at the other guards, one of whom whispered something in his ear. His face darkened with rage. She couldn’t hear what the other guard was saying, but from his urgent tone and frantic gestures, it must be important. She rolled her shoulder gingerly. Nothing broken, that was good.
Zhurov turned his attention back to her, his glare speculative.
“Go on, Zhurov,” one of the guards whispered. For a moment she thought he might protest, but then he stalked off.
“Should have known you were a plant, you damm plaguer,” he muttered as he brushed past her. “Don’t think that will keep you safe.”
She stared after him.
“I’m very sorry, uh, prisoner,” one of the remaining guards said to her. There was an infliction on the word ‘prisoner.’
“Ask to be transferred,” Lev’s voice murmured. “Trust me.”
She took a deep breath and straightened, brushing herself off. “I want to be transferred,” she said flatly.
What the hell. Couldn’t be in much more trouble than she was in now.
To her shock, the guards looked nervous. “Of course. I’ll arrange that right away. Looks like one of our guards has something against you. Wait here, we’ll be right back. I’ll make sure he’s assigned off the floor for the rest of the day.”
She contented herself with a haughty look, since she had no damn idea what was going on.
“What the hell?” she whispered into com when the guards had turned away.
“Turns out you’re not a prisoner after all. You’re a plant from Prasvishoni. Come to check up on how the warden’s running the prison. Masha stayed up all night forging the forms, and Tae hacked them into your file, just a little hidden. The warden discovered them this morning.” There was a familiar smug tone to his voice. She stared at the wall in shock for a moment.
“Masha?” she said, when she’d recovered her voice. “Thought she’d be happy to see me killed.”
“She’s—had a change of heart. For now.” There was a slight amusement in his tone. “But I don’t know that Zhurov will let your new identity stop him from trying.”
She stared down at her com for a moment, then looked up to find where Lev had been watching her from.
She couldn’t see him.
Still—the knowledge that he was watching was strangely comforting. Even if he was a soft-boy.
“How many times are they going to inspect?” Ivan whispered to Tae as he bent over his machine.
“I have no idea,” Tae whispered back.
The guard walked slowly down the row behind them. Tae tried to work steadily, tried not to let his impatience show.
They were short an entire batch of Ysbel’s gun parts, and he’d only managed three pipes in the last two days.
Masha had been right. They were looking for something. If they had time, he would have told Ivan
to leave it. But Tanya and the kids were being transferred in five days, and they didn’t have time to lose.
“We’re not going to make it,” Ivan said in a low voice, once the guard had gone past. “Thank the Lady your friend smuggled the laundry soap yesterday. They have guards watching there too. They’ve been asking questions.”
“I know,” Tae muttered. “But we don’t have an option at this point. We have half the guns we planned for, and we planned for the bare minimum we need.”
Ivan nodded grimly.
Tae glanced up furtively. The guard was at the end of the line now, and was bent down, inspecting one of the stations. Carefully, without taking his eyes off her, Tae pulled a segment of pipe out from under the bolts. He held it up against the grinder, waiting as the rough surface tore off the non-reactive coating and began to heat the metal underneath. The grinder jolted and caught, and jerked the pipe out of his hand. He swore and grabbed for it, but it was too late. It had caught between the grinder blade and the base. The grinder squealed in protest, and Tae jerked at the pipe. The guard at the end of the row looked up, frowning, and started towards them.
Tae swore, wrestling with the pipe. “Look away,” he hissed at Ivan. “No point in them getting both of us.”
“Tae—“
His hands were slick with sweat, and he swore softly. The guard would be there in moments.
What would he say?
At least he could claim he was the only one doing this. That he’d taken the soap as well. But they’d ask where he’d stored it, and—
Behind him, there was a loud clatter. He winced, then glanced up quickly.
The guard was sprawled out on the floor, swearing creatively.
And over her stood … Jez?
“Sorry,” said Jez. She was grinning widely, and didn’t look at all sorry.
She glanced over her shoulder and shot Tae a wink.
Ivan elbowed him, and he turned back to his grinder and yanked one last time at the pipe. It popped free, and he sucked in a breath and shoved it back under the pile of bolts.
Behind him, Jez was helping the guard to her feet. The guard stood, wincing, and, limping heavily and muttering swearwords under her breath, started off.
Tae shook his head in reluctant admiration. Trust Jez to know how to trip someone hard enough to disable them.
Behind him, Jez tapped her com. “Hey tech-head,” she whispered. “I’m basically a celebrity around here now, so don’t worry about the guards. I’ll keep them busy.”
She sauntered off in the direction the guard had gone. Tae pulled the pipe back out from beneath the pile of bolts, still shaking his head.
Maybe Masha’s idea had saved Jez from Zhurov, but it looked like the payoff was going to be she’d irritate so many people, from prisoners right up to the warden, that they’d kill her and hide the body just to be rid of her.
“The woman you were protecting when we first met?” asked Ivan, amusement in his tone.
“You have an older sister?” Tae grumbled.
Ivan frowned. “I—yes.”
“And did she irritate the crap out of you?”
“I—suppose she did. Sometimes.”
“Think of that, except times ten,” Tae muttered, turning back to the grinder. “There was a reason Vlatka wanted to beat her up.”
“I’m—beginning to see that,” whispered Ivan, with a small smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LEV, SECTOR 1, Day 10
“No,” said Ysbel flatly from her bunk. “It is not happening.”
Lev sighed. “Trust me, Ysbel. I don’t want this either.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “Masha, we’ve got to think of something else. This is a terrible idea.”
“We have exactly two days left, Lev,” she said, her pleasant tone coming through his earpiece. “If you have a better idea, you can let me know.”
He shook his head. “She’s a kid. We’re not using a kid.”
“That ‘kid’ is about to be transported to the Vault, if you recall, unless we can find a way to get her and the rest of us out of here,” said Masha, her voice sharp.
He sighed. “It’s not my decision. Talk to Ysbel and Tanya.”
“Not happening,” said Ysbel.
“Wait.” It was Tanya. “Ysbel. My love. You are right. This is dangerous. But we have to do something, and Lev can’t get in there on his own. If he’s caught, we’re all as good as dead. I don’t like it any better than you do. But—I think it’s our only option at this point.”
Ysbel hesitated, clearly torn.
“Believe me,” said Tanya softly. “I’d do it myself if I could. I would do anything to protect these children. To protect you. But I can’t.”
Ysbel gave a deep sigh. “Alright,” she said at last. Then she turned to Lev. “You will bring my daughter back. You will bring her back safely. Nothing will happen to her, and you will be fully responsible. Do you understand me?”
He sighed. “Yes, Ysbel.”
“Good. Because if you come back without her, or if she’s hurt, even a tiny little scratch—”
“I know. You’ll blow me up, or pull my head off with your bare hands, or take out my tongue and stuff it down my throat and choke me with it. I understand.”
“Good.” She paused. “I hadn’t thought of the tongue one. That’s a good one, though. I think I’ll save it.”
He shook his head.
He wasn’t a hundred percent sure why he’d ever agreed to this.
“Alright. So, now that we’ve settled how we’ll kill me if I mess up, shall we get going?”
Ysbel stood. “Tanya. We will meet you in the library.”
Five minutes later, they’d gathered on opposite sides of the glass.
Olya was with them. She was looking quite smug.
“Alright, Olya. Where’s the opening you found?” Lev asked resignedly. Olya, looking very self-important pulled free of her mother’s hand and walked over to one of the lower of the clear panes, over in the corner. She pushed against one corner, and a moment later it popped open.
Lev glanced down at the 8-year-old. “Can you get through there?”
“Yes. If I suck in.”
Tanya came over quickly and knelt beside her daughter, hand on her shoulder. Lev could see her knuckles, white with the effort of not squeezing too hard. His own heart was beating too quickly.
But they’d talked it over again and again.
They had the weapons. Masha had spoken to the prisoners in charge of starting the riot. The only thing they were missing were the guards’ schedules, when they went on and off duty.
The chip would be in the warden’s office, and Tanya had been there before, with the children. She knew what to look for, and how to tell where the cameras could see. Lev didn’t.
But, Olya did.
So Olya was going to come with him.
Tanya picked the girl up and hugged her for a long moment.
“I’m fine, Mamochka,” came Olya’s muffled voice from Tanya’s shoulder. “Let me go.”
At last, reluctantly, Tanya released her. Olya squirmed through the gap, and he pulled her the rest of the way through. Then he knelt beside her.
“You alright?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Are you scared?”
She gave him a long-suffering look and shook her head. Then she held out her hand. “Here. Aunty Masha said to give this to you.”
He took the chip from her. Masha had spoken to him earlier over the com—she wanted him to leave it on the warden’s desk, and he knew Masha well enough to know that asking for an explanation would be a waste of breath.
“Alright then.” He paused. “Your Mama’s here, too. Do you want to see her for a minute before we go?”
For the first time, the girl’s face showed apprehension. “Yes,” she said at last, but her voice was slightly uncertain.
“It’s OK,” he said quietly. “She’d be really happy to see you, I think.”
Olya looked at him, her face slightly pale. “Do you think she’ll like me?” she whispered. “She hasn’t seen me since I was basically a baby. Like, even littler than Misko.”
“I think she’ll love you,” said Lev gravely, speaking around the knot in his throat.
Slowly, Olya turned towards the back of the room, where Ysbel was standing quietly.
“I’ll hold your hand if you want,” Lev whispered, standing up. She reached up and took his hand, and there was something about the smallness of her hand in his that made the knot in his throat grow a little more.
“Come on,” he whispered. She nodded, and they walked forward.
When he was halfway there, Olya slipped her hand from his and started walking a little faster. Ysbel knelt, so she was at eye-level to the girl, and a few steps away from her, Olya broke into a run. She collided with Ysbel, and Ysbel caught her and stood, clutching the girl to her chest. Tears pricked at Lev’s eyes.
He brushed them away in irritation. He had work to do tonight, and getting sentimental wasn’t going to help.
Ysbel and Olya were still clutching each other, as if each was a drowning swimmer and the other was a life raft. They didn’t speak—they didn’t seem to need to.
He looked away quickly, but on the other side of the glass, Tanya was weeping as well.
He shook his head wryly, and wiped his eyes again with the back of his hand.
So much for that.
Finally, Ysbel lowered Olya to the ground. The girl still clung to her neck, her arms clasped like ships clamps.
“Mama missed you,” Ysbel said, voice thick. “But you have to go. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” said Olya, her face still pressed into Ysbel’s shoulder. “I’m very smart.”
“That’s what Lev told me,” she said, a smile in her voice. “But even very smart people have to hurry if they want to get done before the guards come back. Go on. Mamochka and I will be waiting for you when you get back.”
For a moment, Olya didn’t loosen her grip. At last though, reluctantly, she let go.
