Landfall (The Reach, Book 2) (30 page)

Knile took a deep breath, but his heart rate did not slow.

“I think I have to try it,” he said shakily.  “I have to at least hear what Silvestri has to offer.  I owe Roman that much.  It might turn out to be bullshit, but I can’t just wait here and watch him die.”

Talia nodded.  “Yeah.  You’re right.”

He drew her toward him.  “I’m sorry.”

“I know, Knile.  I understand.  Don’t worry about me.  I’m the least of
your concerns.”

“It just seems so stupid,” Knile said, overwrought.  “We came all the way down the Reach to find you, then we came all the way out here to join Skybreach, and now I have to leave you again and head back to the Reach.”

“There’s nothing you could have done about that.”

He felt a pang of guilt.  “I said I wasn’t going to leave you again, Talia, but–”

“Hey,” she said suddenly, holding his face in her hands.  She composed herself, pushed away the tears.  “This isn’t the end for you and me and Roman, right?” she said, her voice full of conviction.  “There’s still a future for us as long as you believe it.”

He forced a smile.  “Yeah.”

“We’ll see each other again,” she said instead.  “Say it back to me.”

“We’ll see each other again.  I promise.”

She leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips.  He could feel her trembling, feel the unspoken trepidation within her, the uncertainty despite her bold words.

She didn’t believe he was coming back.

As she drew away from him, Knile felt utterly torn.  He felt as though he were being forced to make a choice that he didn’t want to make, an impossible decision.  On the one hand was Roman, and the other Talia.  If Roman d
idn’t receive treatment at the I
nfirmary, he would die.  And yet if the mission failed and Knile wound up dead, what would Skybreach do with Talia?  They would have no use for her.  Would they simply cast her back out onto the street at the mercy of Capper and his thugs?

He didn’t know what to do.  He stood for a moment, wracked by indecision, and then Talia made up his mind for him.

“Go,” she said, pushing him back toward Silvestri and Emil, and then she proceeded through the door to the lab to say goodbye to Roman.

“What’s the call?” Silvestri said.

“We go.”

The dark-skinned man nodded sombrely.  “As you wish.  I’ll go and prepare.”

Knile watched him leave, then began to move toward the medical room, but Emil extended his hand to stop him.

“Knile,” he said quietly, “are you sure you want to throw away your chance at joining Skybreach?  Your odds of success with Silvestri aren’t great.”

“This is something I have to do, Emil.”

Emil nodded.  “I understand.”

Knile looked at him intently.  “I want Talia looked after, no matter what happens to me.  You can find something for her to do, right?  You can find a place for her.”

“I’ll take care of her.”  He leaned in closer.  “But I should warn you about one thing.  Be careful around Silvestri.”

Knile frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“He’s been somewhat erratic
lately.  Too concerned with his own pursuits.  If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought he was drifting away from Skybreach.”

“You’re telling me this
now?
”

“It wouldn’t have changed your mind about going, would it?”

“No,” Knile said immediately.  “He’s the only shot I have.”

Emil released him and stepped back.  “I don’t wan
t to lose you from
Skybreach, Knile.  You just got here, and there’s so much you can offer us.”  He grimaced.  “But I won’t stand in your way.  I can see how important this is to you.”  He smiled sadly.  “Go with my blessing.”

“Thank you, Emil.  I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

Knile turned and moved into the medical lab, where Talia held Roman in a firm embrace.  He joined them and wrapped his arm around them, sharing a moment with his two closest companions, perhaps, he thought, for the last time.

I never told you why I locked myself away in my basement all these years, Knile
,
Talia thought as she embraced him
.  Why I never tried to make friends with anyone again.  It’s because I couldn’t stand to have the people I love walk out of my life anymore.  I decided I was better off alone.  And now you’ve brought me here, and it’s all happening again.

She wanted so much to say those words, to let him know what was in her heart, but she knew she couldn’t do that to him.   Not now.

She had to let the two of them go and just hope that they would somehow find their way back again in one piece.

29

Ursie wound her way through a series of narrow grey hallways that seemed little more than flimsy, oversized pipes connecting the disparate modules of the habitat.  There were bulkheads at the ends of each, and she could imagine these snapping shut should the corridors either spring a leak or fracture in some way and suddenly pose a threat to the safety of the rest of the structure.

Stop thinking this morbid shit
, Ursie told herself. 
This place is perfectly safe.

She’d told herself that plenty of times over the past couple of days, but she was still edgy.  It was perfectly natural to feel this way, she supposed, after spending her entire life with her feet planted on
terra firma
.  After living in those vast open spaces under an orange sky, it was no great surprise that she should now experience a mild case of claust
rophobia within Habitat Thirty-One.

Here she was, hurtling through space in a giant tin can as the cold and unforgiving environment outside clawed at the thin coating of metal that was keeping it at bay.

It was enough to make anyone nervous.

She stepped out of the corridor and into the concourse, and sudden
ly her mood improved.  The wide-
open spaces here were far more appealing, lessening the cramped feeling that had been suffocating her in her quarters and as she’d traversed the corridors.

In fact, staring up at the curved ceiling of the habitat far above, she experienced a moment of awe.  The transparent panels embedded in the ceiling admitted slanting shafts of pure white sunlight, and far above, a broad vista of the Earth’s equator spread out with impressive grandeur.  Ursie stood there for a minute or more
, taking it all in as the citizens of the habitat filtered past.

She glanced left and right, wondering which way to go.  To the left was the central business hub, that conglomeration of modular outlets that drew i
n the people of Habitat Thirty-O
ne like a magnet.  To the right the crowd thinned out and the roof tapered, becoming gradually lower as it curved and disappeared around the corner.

Ursie weighed up her options.  She would have liked to
drop by one of those travel outlets to ask about Callisto, to perhaps uncover a small piece of the jigsaw
puzzle that made up her future.  It was a seductive proposition, but one that would be fraught with danger.  Surrounded by people, the possibility of her slipping and accidentally reaching out with her powers would increase.  Better to go somewhere she could be by herself, she decided.  Play it safe.

Callisto could wait.

She started along the concourse, taking her time and allowing herself to enjoy the moment for what it was – a tranquil stroll through a place that was safe and secure, a place where she did not have to worry about looking over her shoulder every few seconds to see who might be sneaking up to murder or rob her.  A place where she need not concern herself about where her next meal would be coming from or what her future held.

She’d done the hard work of escaping from that life, and now those kinds of worries were behind her.

A sign ahead read
Departures and Arrivals
,
and through the gates she could see a few scattered and weary travellers making their way into the habitat, having disembarked from their cruisers.  Ursie watched them, wondering where they might have come from and where they might be headed.  A man with a thick, shaggy beard huffed past and Ursie was suddenly assaulted by an image of him, almost naked, lowering himself into some sort of convex tank with a clear perspex cover.

Stop!
she practically shouted to herself, clutching at her brow and reeling away from the man’s memories. 
Keep your guard up!

She gasped, taken by surprise at the ease with which her concentration had wavered.  After a lifetime of casually plucking at people’s thoughts as they passed by, it was difficult to adjust to blocking everything out.

Keep walking.  Stay away from them.

She considered heading back to the room to ensure she did not slip again, but the thought of sitting inside that cold and cramped space with van Asch was somewhat unappealing to her.  She felt better out here on the concourse, more able to cope with the abrupt changes in her life, and she knew that she needed to spend at least a few minutes here to rejuvenate.

She kept walking, past the gates to a seemingly unoccupied corner of the habitat.

Here the structure seemed to come to an abrupt end.

She walked to the far wall, where an arched expanse of dark grey metal rose up like a portal leading out into space.  There was a small round window set into the wall at shoulder height, and as she approached she bent and pressed her face against it.

Something was out there.

“The ol’ Skywalk,” someone said behind her.

Ursie whirled, startled, to see an old man leaning on a broom not far away.  He gazed at her from under the brim of a beaten old station cap, a friendly twinkle in his eyes.  His ruddy cheeks puffed at the edges of his smile above a shaggy white beard.  Wrinkled fingers rested easily on the end of the broom handle, which he had tucked under his chin as he regarded her.

“What?” Ursie said, her nerves still jangling from his sudden appearance.

The old man pointed beyond her.  “Through there.  That’s the ol’ Skywalk.  You can’t get through there nowadays.”

“Oh,” Ursie said, glancing over her shoulder at the archway.  “Right.”

“You ain’t from around here, no?” the old man said, lowering the handle of the broom and pushing idly at a patch on the floor.  “At least, I ain’t seen you.”

“Just passing through,” Ursie said, smiling awkwardly.

“Where to?”

“Callisto.  I’m going there tomorrow, or maybe the next day.”

“And where from?”

She pointed toward the roof, where Earth was clearly visible through the windows.

“Came through the Reach.”

The man’s eyes widened.  “You spend some time on mother Earth, no?”

Ursie laughed.  “Yeah.  My whole life.”

The old man smirked appreciatively.  “Aw hell, ain’t that somethin’?  I don’t talk to nobody from down there much these days.  What’s it like?”

Ursie considered.  “Picture th
e worst Hell imaginable and you’re half way there.”

The man bent over, wheezing, and Ursie realised he was laughing.  He stepped toward her and held out a withered hand.

“Name’s Tobias Krump.”

Ursie extended her own and shook his hand.  “I’m Ursie Meyer.”

Tobias propped the broom up against the wall.  “Stay a minute and tell me about it, will you Ursie?”

“What?  Earth?”

Tobias bobbed his head eagerly.  “Yeah.  I ain’t been there in so long.  Since I was a boy, I reckon.”

Ursie shrugged.  “There’s not much to tell.  People are sick and dying.  The air is putrid, and so is the water.  Everyone is trying to get out.”

The man’s smile faltered and he lowered himself onto a nearby bench.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.  What did you expect?”

Tobias pursed his lips.  “It wasn’t always that way, y’know.  There was a time when it was…”  He struggled to find the right words.  “…good.”