Dark Star (29 page)

“You okay?” Rosie grabbed the water before it spilled.

“Yeah … ah.” Gillian coughed again and put a hand on Rosie’s leg as if to steady herself then looked at Rosie her gaze sharp, and whispered, “You think Pip got away, went to Riley and your aunt?”

Rosie hesitated. Gillian eyes were wide urging Rosie to trust her but this seemed too easy and convenient. Did Alpha really think she was going to fall for this?

She pushed Gillian roughly away. “So you made a trade did you?” she said loudly. “Did Alpha offer you forgiveness if you got something out of me?”

Gillian was panicked. “No, what? That’s not what’s going on. I came to help you.”

“Sure you did, traitor.” Rosie jumped on her, upsetting the tray and sending the bowl and food splattering across the floor. She pushed her back on the bed and slapped her across the face, not hard but enough to sound real, then she grabbed her hair.

“Rosie!” Gillian fought back and they tumbled onto the floor, rolling around in the spilled food.

“Traitor!” Rosie yelled. She put an arm around Gillian’s neck and pushed her face close to her ear, using the other girl’s hair as cover.

“I know they made you do this,” she whispered, “and I’m sorry they hurt you, but if you can, help me. Get me a gun.” Gillian froze but then threw Rosie off and leaped to her feet.

“I’m only trying to stay alive,” she said, but it seemed that she might have understood, or agreed. She banged on the door. “Guard!” The door opened and Gillian threw a last look at Rosie before she rushed out.

Dalton sat on the bed. There were bruises on his neck and back from the fight with his father, scabs on his knuckles from where the skin had broken. He rubbed at them and one opened again, a smear of blood leaking out. They were reminders of what Jebediah had done to him, bringing him here, putting that thing on his head so he forgot who he was. He couldn’t forgive him for that, and it still made a hollow pit inside when he thought about it. He hadn’t seen his father since, and guessed he was leaving him alone on purpose to make him sweat. Power games. That was his thing.

He worried if Rosie and Pip had got away and how Gillian was. They’d been separated after they surrendered to the operatives and he had no idea what had happened to Sulawayo. No one was talking to him, but he wasn’t in a cell, so that was something.

He got up and began to pace. He had to get out.

A few hours later an operative came with a tray of food. Dalton drank the water and ignored the food. If both were drugged at least he could limit the damage. He was escorted to the bathroom and saw no one, but heard the faint sound of talking and the chink of cutlery coming from the cafeteria. Were all of the zeroes here on Alpha and his dad’s side? Certainly, the operatives were. Any who had been Sulawayo’s must have been weeded out.

The lights went out and he lay on the bed.

He finally fell asleep but his dreams were violent, filled with his father doing terrible things and him being pursued. He woke suddenly; it was still dark. Something had woken him. He lay very still listening, hardly breathing. The hairs on his arms lifted. There was someone in the room. Fear made adrenaline spike through him, bringing him fully awake.

“Don’t panic.” A light was switched on and Dalton flinched, sitting up fast, his back against the wall, squinting in the sudden brightness.

“I’m only here to talk.” Jebediah stood at the door, a glowing orb light in his hand. Fear caught at Dalton’s throat and he hated himself for it, for the weakness.

“What do you want? Here to drug me again?” His voice wasn’t steady.

His father put the light on the floor and, in its glow, Dalton saw the yellowing bruise from his own fist on Jebediah’s cheekbone, and when he straightened there was a momentary wince of pain. “I’m not here to fight you again, son.”

“Then what do you want? I don’t think there’s much left to say after what you’ve done, do you?”

“I did what I needed to do to protect you from yourself. I’m sorry if you think otherwise.”

“Maybe you should try the manacle and see how well you feel afterwards.”

“Your friend, Rosie, did not escape, if you are thinking you have scored some victory,” Jebediah said. “She is in the cells right now.”

Dalton felt himself pale and hated his father seeing it. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you like, son, but it is true, and I must decide what to do with her. She has been … troublesome.”

Fear for Rosie beat through Dalton’s body. Had they caught her at the ruins? And what of Pip?

He wanted to know more, exactly how Rosie was. If they’d hurt her, he’d kill them. His jaw clenched, but his father wanted to unsettle him; it was why he’d told him. Games.

“What about Gillian?” he asked instead.

Jebediah frowned. “Why should you care about her?”

“Because I care about people, unlike you. I don’t use them.”

“You don’t?” Jebediah raised his eyebrows. “What about all the people you misled in your quest to follow Riley Shore’s path? Were you really so innocent of trickery or deceit? You attempted to deceive me, you tried to destroy the company I built that keeps you and your mother safe. We all use someone at some point, son. We are not as different as you want to believe.”

“We’re very different.” Dalton’s voice shook. “You’re going to use the MalX for genocide, for your own gain.”

His father looked at him with weary disappointment. “It saddens me that you think so badly of me. Everything I do is for the greater good. Our world is dying; we need a solution.”

“And it’s up to you to decide what it is?” Dalton said. “I know you’re part of the Pantheon, Dad. I know you tricked Sulawayo into thinking her rebellion against the other Pantheon members was real. I know all of it and it’s not a solution; it’s murder. How you can feel it’s the right choice–”

“Feel?” Jebediah frowned. “None of this is about emotion. I’m saving the planet. Emotion can’t come into it.”

Dalton laughed bitterly. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“No, that’s not the problem – it’s a solution.” Jebediah was showing the first sign of agitation. He took a long breath spreading his hands out. “The MalX was always intended as a means of population control, yes. It was – is – necessary. There are simply too many of us. The Earth can’t support the billions that keep breeding, and the colonies are fragile as well. There simply is not enough room for everybody. And when that happens, what you need is a selection process. It makes sense for the future of humanity that those who survive to keep breeding are the smartest, those with the best genetic history, the strongest, not the ones who have been living in squalor, breeding disease, lacking education and filled with ignorance. It makes sense.”

Dalton couldn’t reply. His father really did believe what he said.

“The Earth needs to be cleansed in order to regenerate, Dalton. I see that, Alpha sees that, but those in the Senate, the UEC can’t. They lack vision and the ability to make the choices we need to survive. Hard decisions must be made and I am willing to make them.” His matter-of-fact tone was chilling, but it was the sympathetic expression, as if he was sorry that Dalton didn’t agree, that Dalton couldn’t stomach. How could his father believe the death of millions justified the survival of the few? It was insane. He was insane.

“I don’t even recognise you any more,” Dalton said. “No wonder mother is so afraid of you. You’re a monster.”

“Yes, that is what your brother called me once.”

“And you killed him for it,” Dalton said.

“I did not kill him.” Jebediah’s face went taut. “If I’d known that the area hadn’t been cleansed of the MalX threat, I would never have let Alpha leave Chris there. Never. It was supposed to be a lesson, nothing more.”

“And I can see how sorry you are. And what lesson will you teach me? Or will a clean shot to the head solve your problems?”

Dalton glared at this man he could barely understand was his father. How had it come to this?

Jebediah sighed, shaking his head. “There is too much of your mother in you, son. Her soft heart, her innocence. It’s what I loved most about her, but it is not a good trait in a man. We cannot afford to be so weak.”

“Weak?” The word came out choked. “And what is strength? Killing people, murder? Deciding if millions live or die?”

“Yes. That is strength and you lack it.” His father sighed. “I have no punishment that will make a difference to this … I don’t know, I will think on what to do. It will be dawn soon. You should get some rest.” He picked up the light and left.

Dalton lay for a long while in the dark after he’d gone. He knew now that his father was a lost cause. A small part of him had been hoping, praying, that something redeemable remained but it was clear there wasn’t. He had no time left to worry about what his father might do to him. There was only once choice: get out, find Rosie if she was here and stop his father.

He went to the clothes cupboard against the wall and searched it, not caring about the surveillance. Nothing but a few T-shirts, a pair of pants and some underwear. He took one of the shirts and brought it back to the bed. At a pinch, a strong twist of fabric could be used to choke someone, if he could get the right angle. He tied one end around his left wrist and began making a noise. He overturned the bed, picking it up and shoving it hard against a wall, scraping it along the floor, and then he went to the cupboard and began to wrench it off the wall. It made a hell of racket as it began to come away and, as he’d hoped, the door flew open and an operative ran in.

“Stop!” The man went to grab him, but Dalton spun around, ducking under his hands and pushed him into the locker. The operative bounced off with a grunt and punched him in the face then landed a sharp kick to his stomach. Dalton doubled over, his knees hitting the floor, struggling for breath, as if he’d given up.

“Try that again and you’re dead; I don’t care who your daddy is.” The operative leaned close and spat in Dalton’s face, getting him near his eye.

With one swift movement, Dalton leaped up, whipped the shirt around the operative’s neck and pulled it tight. The man was shorter, so Dalton got a good grip and the operative wheezed, tugging at the material with both hands, struggling fiercely. Dalton hung on. The sound of the man’s choking was a terrible retching sound. He kicked out, slamming a boot into the wall, pushing them both backwards as he tried to twist away. Dalton staggered, but held on. It was taking too long. Surely, if the surveillance was working someone else was going to come soon? He grit his teeth, feeling the man start to weaken and sag. He kept pulling, his arms straining, sickened by what he was doing but finally the operative slumped, his legs giving way and Dalton could slacken the shirt. He lowered the man to the floor and fumbled at the operative’s belt, using the man’s own restraints to tie his hands behind his back. He took the man’s gun and stylus and slipped out into the hall, heading for the cells.

Rosie wished she had a window in the cell. She thought it must be close to morning now. She hadn’t slept well and an ache of weariness was behind her eyes. She rubbed at them, glad at least that the serum Cassie had made was holding the implant nanos at bay. It was still cold, but fear had made her sweat and she wished she could shower. She scraped her hair back and tied it on itself. It didn’t help.

A little while after, the door opened and Alpha came in carrying a tray. With him was Gillian. There were fresh bruises on her face and arms and one of her eyes was swollen shut.

“Good morning.” Alpha put the tray on the cot. “Sleep well?”

Malicious amusement lit his eyes as he watched her noting Gillian’s injuries. The aroma from the tray was good. He’d brought in the food the operatives got. Real fresh bread, coffee, even some fruit and what seemed like genuine scrambled eggs. Her stomach growled.

“You should eat it all. It will help you.”

Rosie had no doubt it was drugged. “I don’t think anything will help. I’m sorry.” She looked at Gillian and Alpha followed her gaze.

“I thought you should see the result of your refusal to cooperate,” he said. “If you don’t eat, she will pay again.”