Eugene Lambert - Into the No-Zone

‘Does it matter?’ She pushes my bowl back at me.

Even though I feel sick inside I choke a few mouthfuls down, for her more than me. And it’s not as bad as it looks. Then again, it’s been a good while since I last ate a proper meal.

‘How’s your arm?’ Rona asks Colm.

He holds his arm up in its sling. ‘Getting there, I think.’

I snort, hearing this. ‘He still can’t hardly move it.’

Rona suggested getting some of my nublood into him so he’d heal quicker, but the guards won’t let her bring healing gear in. It’s a curse. If we do bust out, him having two arms would be good.

‘Hey, Colm, tell Rona what you told me this morning.’

He scowls, and says nothing.

‘I’ll tell her then. He said that it’s okay if we’re handed over.’

‘I did not ! All I said was – if the Council could negotiate a realistic deal, something that might actually work, but still had to hand us over, who are we to say it’s too high a price?’

‘You believe this?’ I say to Rona.

She looks pained. ‘Your brother’s entitled to his opinion.’

‘You agree with him?’

I get huffed at. ‘No, I don’t.’ She turns to face my brother. ‘You’re brave to say it, Colm, but sacrificing yourself will achieve nothing. No good will come of making deals with Slayers.’

‘Like I said!’ I kick out at the dirt floor.

Colm shrugs and gets on with emptying his bowl.

I shove mine away and ask the question I’ve been busting to ask. ‘Did you talk to Sky?’

‘I did. She . . . asked after you.’

‘Frag that,’ I whisper. ‘Will she help us?’

Rona glances at the guards. They’re stretching, not watching.

I pull at her arm. ‘Rona?’

And see the pained expression on her face.

‘Kyle, I’m sorry. Sky can’t help. She’s tried to see you, but they won’t let her. I know it’s tough, but there’s no way we can get you out of here. You’re too important and too well guarded.’

‘So we rot here until they hand us over?’

Rona leans in, grabs my hand and won’t let go.

‘Don’t give up hope, Kyle. Our leaders will see this peace offer for the sham it is. And I heard talk that it’s a last throw of the dice for the Slayers – because they know they’re losing the war. If we fight on, we’ll beat them and have peace on our terms!’

‘You believe that?’ I whisper.

She breathes deeply and nods. ‘I do.’

Only I’ve known her too long to be fooled. She’s just saying this.

In the middle of that night, we get our first taste of the trouble brewing in the Deeps. A distant roaring and crackling sound from outside wakes us up, loud even through the armoured door. Seconds later I hear the heavy crash of our base-defence guns opening up. Our guards get all excited. We’re dragged to the back of the cave. They take up defensive positions in front of us, kill the glowtubes and plunge the chamber into darkness.

Okay for them, they have night-see goggles. We’re blind.

‘What’s going on?’ I ask, but get no answer.

Then all goes quiet again. Not long after, our cell door opens and the glowtubes flicker back on. A tense-looking Gemini officer hurries inside and takes a long, hard stare at Colm and me.

‘Both confirmed safe,’ he says into his throat-mike.

Through the open door I hear lots of distant shouting outside. Also the faint huffs and clatters of a steam engine. Still nobody will tell us what’s going on. Course not. The officer leaves, the door’s bolted again, and we’re left to crawl back on to our benches and try to get back to sleep, our heads full of wondering.

At dawn we get an unexpected visitor.

It’s Ballard. Even more surprisingly, he orders our guards outside so he can have a word with us in private.

I get a very bad feeling, and I see Colm swallow hard too.

Ballard has us sit at the grubby, food-spattered table. He sits on a stool opposite and picks up the water jug. ‘May I?’

I lick my lips and nod. ‘Sure.’

‘Please do,’ Colm croaks.

Ballard fills a beaker with water and takes a few sips. I can’t help noticing how his hands are trembling.

‘I’m here,’ he says gravely, ‘to tell you the Council’s decision.’

My breath scrapes in and out of me.

For what feels like the longest time he regards us both from under his bristling grey eyebrows. Then he scowls.

‘I’m afraid they voted in favour of the Slayer peace treaty.’

Colm empties his lungs in a gasp.

Me, it’s like someone starts bashing nails into my skull. I’m stunned, yet not surprised. No way was the Council ever going to back the two of us against possible salvation. I stagger to my feet, clutching at the table and knocking my stool over.

A guard appears at the open door and levels his pulse rifle.

Ballard lifts a hand. ‘It’s all right. The young man has had a shock, but he won’t do anything foolish. Will you, Kyle?’

I look down the rifle’s barrel and shake my head.

Ballard tells the guard to stand down and waits until he ducks outside again. ‘There was nothing I could do,’ he says, sounding as tired as he looks. ‘For my part, I argued the decision was not the Council’s to make, that all Gemini fighters should vote. Difficult perhaps, yet not impossible.’ Grimacing, he levers himself up from his stool. ‘Unfortunately my suggestion was rejected.’

Colm jumps up and runs to help him, despite his injured arm. I glare at him, then catch myself. None of this is his fault.

Ballard thanks him and starts pacing about.

‘Do we get a last good meal?’ I jeer.

He stops and looks at me. His face is lined and grim. Next thing I know, he straightens up and shakes his head.

‘All my life, I’ve fought for what I believe in. I won’t quit now on the say-so of fools. I’ve no intention of handing you over.’

‘But you said –’ I shut up.

Colm looks bug-eyed too, and it takes him a few tries to get his voice working. ‘What about the peace deal?’

‘To hell with it,’ Ballard growls. ‘And to hell with the Council too, and all their weak-kneed dithering. Had they treated this farce of a peace deal with the contempt that it deserved, perhaps the damage could have been contained. Now it’s too late. All over Wrath, Gemini is tearing itself apart.’

‘You’ll let us go?’ I say, relief like a geyser inside me.

Ballard frowns at me, more sad than angry. ‘It’s not that simple. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here a little longer.’

‘Why?’ I feel I’ve missed something.

‘Let’s just say that my situation is . . . awkward at the moment.’

Colm nods, like he follows this. Me, I’m lost. Before I can ask Ballard what he means, he unzips his jacket, pulls a leather holster from an inside pocket and places it on the table.

‘This is yours, I believe?’ He slides it towards me.

I pick the holster up. Inside it is the slug-thrower Rona gave me when I went on the run after finding out I was a nublood. A weapon from the Long Ago on Earth, it once belonged to the Saviour. Before she died, my birth mother nearly killed him with it.

‘Where’d you get this?’ I say, amazed.

‘Our forces found it at the Facility. I’d planned to give it to you under more auspicious circumstances, but needs must. Take a look, Kyle. You’ll see we’ve made some improvements.’

I pull the gun out. It’s shiny and well oiled now, no rust anywhere. I flick it open. Two chambers are loaded. Not with proper bullets mind, more like modded blaster rounds.

‘Thanks!’ I blurt out.

Ballard sighs. ‘You must both give me your word you won’t use it on your guards. They’re on your side.’