Darker Space Page 9

  “Do you think it’s dark outside yet?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.” He stuck a finger in his mouth, wet it, and used it to reach the crumbs in the bottom of his cracker packet.

  Watching him suck his finger, suddenly I wasn’t so tired.

  “What?” he asked. “Brady?”

  I straddled him, tugging his blanket open.

  “Um.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Cameras, remember?”

  “Fuck the cameras, LT.”

  “You can’t be serious,” he whispered.

  I wedged a hand between us, shoving it down to find his cock. “It’s either this or I Spy.”

  Cam grabbed my wrist and pulled it back. “Pretty sure those are not our only options.”

  I sighed and shifted back off him. “Come on, LT. Some little fucker in intel, and we could have given him a show.”

  Cam closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back against the wall. Then he shook his head and smiled. “Your brain does not work the same as other people’s. You know you’re crazy, right?”

  “Stir-crazy.”

  Cam opened his eyes. “Regular crazy.”

  It had taken a long time back on Defender Three, when Cam had first been in my head, to get used to him. To realize that I didn’t have to be afraid of having him there. To realize that I didn’t have to be ashamed of all the stupid shit I thought. And said. And did.

  Whatever.

  It was nice to have someone see past all that, I mean. When it stopped being terrifying, anyhow. No walls between us. No spaces. Because sometimes I got so angry that I fooled myself there was nothing in me apart from rage, but Cam knew there was. He’d been able to see it even when I hadn’t. And he’d never laughed at me for being scared.

  I reached out and laid my cold palm against his cheek. “I was horrible to you.”

  “When were you horrible?”

  “How about every time I called you a faggot in my head?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

  “I’m sorry.” My throat ached, and my eyes stung with sudden tears. “I’m really sorry, Cam. And I’m not saying it just because now—Fuck.”

  “Because now you’re on my side of the insult?” In the gloom his face was serious, but his voice was quiet. Gentle.

  “Always was, I guess. Just too fucking stupid to know it.” I leaned toward him and pressed my lips against his. Inhaled his scent and wondered what sort of idiot I’d ever been that I’d tried to deny myself this. Cam was everything I’d ever needed. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” The words slid out of him as softly as a sigh. “So much, Brady. So much.”

  Warmth rushed through me, a tidal surge.

  “Yours was the first face I saw, remember?”

  How could I forget? The med bay of Defender Three. Cameron Rushton in that Faceless pod, and a bunch of doctors—and me—in orange hazmat suits, ready to cut him out. It hadn’t gone to plan. Well, unless the plan had been to almost kill him. His heart had stopped. And me, sitting on the floor in a puddle of slimy fluid from the pod, my thigh bleeding and nightmares of infection running through my skull, suddenly seized by the batshit-crazy idea that I was his battery.

  I’d put my hand on his chest.

  His heart had begun to beat again.

  “I remember.”

  “Your face.” Cam’s breath was warm against my lips as he kissed me gently again. “The pale, wide-eyed face of this terrified human kid.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “I hadn’t seen another human face in four years. It felt like longer. It felt like everything that had come before the Faceless was unreality. Everything until you. I didn’t know how homesick I was until I saw your face.”

  I smiled and broke our kiss.

  “What?” he murmured.

  “You and me, LT,” I whispered back. “We only get shit right when it’s us against the universe.”

  Cam leaned back, frowning slightly. “Is that really what you think?”

  Wasn’t it the truth? My stomach clenched, and I tried to make a joke of it. “Sure. You turn into a romantic, and I turn into less of a dick.”

  He didn’t smile. “I think…I think we get it right most of the time, Brady.”

  Except even now he was thinking of the black, of how free and alive he’d felt when he’d been floating in it, and of the ache its absence left inside him.

  “We did.” The words sounded hollow. “We do.”

  Cam pressed his forehead to mine. “I hope we do.”

  I closed my eyes. “Because I don’t know how to do the other stuff.”

  He put a hand on the side of my head and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “What other stuff?”

  “The stuff that doesn’t matter when we’re in a cage. Like the times we meet up with your old friends and they talk about stuff I don’t understand.” I frowned, trying to make sense of something I’d never even articulated to myself. “Like university and taxes and politics, and shit I don’t know anything about. And they’re nice guys, and I know that, but sometimes I think there’s a bigger gulf between here and Kopa than between here and anything that happened out in the black.”

  His breath hitched.

  “And I tried real hard to fit, but you and me, we only work when we don’t have all that other shit between us.”

  “Bullshit,” he said roughly, the word rumbling in his chest. He pushed my head back to make sure I was looking him in the eye. “That’s total bullshit. You think you’re not good enough for me?”

  “Whole fucking world thinks it, Cam.” My eyes stung.

  “I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.” He shook his head. “How many times, Brady? How many times have I told you that, and you still don’t believe it?”

  “I try to.” My voice rasped. “When you say it, I do, and then…then shit gets in the way again.”

  “Because you let it.”

  “Yeah.” I hated myself for admitting it. “I guess.”

  “I love you,” he said. “But it doesn’t have to be us against the universe to make it work, okay? Or us in a cage. It can just be us.”

  He made it sound so simple, but how could I compete with starlight?

  “It can be,” he whispered. “It can be as simple as we want.”

  “Me and you in a cage.”

  I think my past had ruined me for simple.

  I leaned my head on his chest. His arms came around me. I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat. For a moment it beat in counterpoint to my own, and then we slipped into sync.

  “Am I your heartbeat again?”

  “You always have been.”

  “I meant literally.”

  His fingers counted the knots in my spine. Unease spread through him, and then through me. As gentle but relentless as the tide. “I don’t know.”

  I slid my hand under his shirt.

  The muscles in his abdomen tightened. “Cold!”

  “Sorry.” I wasn’t. We both knew it.

  He relaxed as I shifted my hand higher and held it over his heart. “How does it feel? In your medical opinion.”

  “Not a trainee medic anymore, LT.”

  “Their loss.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “Not really.”

  Doc had always said I had a good bedside manner. Maybe I did. Doc had even had this crazy idea that he could make an officer out of me. But pushing a mop around a floor was more in line with my skill set. I dropped out of school when I was twelve. I had no fucking business pretending to be better than I was.

  I pushed those thoughts away. I didn’t like how there was something sour in them that felt a little like regret. I wasn’t going to feel sorry for myself because the military dropped me from trainee medic to orderly. You start thinking you deserve something, that’s when it gets all fucked up. You expect nothing, and they can’t disappoint you.

  And fuck them. Fuck everybody. I had more than I could ever have hoped for. I had Cam, and Lucy wa
s safe. Alive and safe. What the hell was the point in wallowing in self-indulgent misery when Lucy was alive and safe? Who the fuck did I think I was?

  “Lucy will be okay with your parents.”

  Cam traced a pattern on my back with his fingers. “Yeah.”

  I exhaled. “Okay.”

  His fingers stilled. “Really okay?”

  I had to think about that for a while.

  “On balance?”

  He rubbed my back. “Sure.”

  “I’ve had better days,” I murmured. “I’ve had worse too.”

  I wanted to be enough for Lucy, but I wasn’t. It hurt, but what did pride matter, or ego, or any of it, so long as she was somewhere safe? Back on Defender Three when I was certain she’d die before I could get back to her, I would have sold my soul for people like the Rushtons to take her. So why fucking whine about it now?

  I’d found Marcello dead. He’d made his choice. And maybe it was even a rational choice. I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t just figure things would never get better; maybe he knew, and maybe I had no right to think any different or to judge him for it.

  I wasn’t cold, and I wasn’t hungry, and Cam’s arms were around me.

  I’d had plenty of worse days.

  “I’m okay. On balance.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Opened them again to find myself on the humming Faceless ship.

  * * * *

  This fucking dream again.

  “Brady. Don’t come in here!”

  Too late.

  I stumbled through the doorway, eyes rolling in my skull, fear squeezing my chest tight.

  “Is she here? Is Lucy here?”

  Cam turned his face to mine. He was crying. Above him Kai-Ren looked like some shadow from a nightmare. Tall, his suit oily black, his ungloved hand as white and bloodless as a corpse’s as it lay on Cam’s spine.

  “Is Lucy here?” I twisted around as I sensed movement behind me and saw a flash of color that didn’t belong in this place: light blue. It was already gone before I realized what it was. Lucy’s checkered school uniform. “No! You need to make this stop! She can’t be here!”

  Kai-Ren drew himself up to his full height. He hissed. The noises weren’t words, but my brain translated them.

  “Bray-dee.”

  “Tell him she can’t be here, Cam!”

  “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”

  “Cam!”

  “I’m sorry. Brady. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “If he’s in my head again, then all he sees is you.”

  I backed toward the door. “Then make it stop! Wake up, and make it stop!” I heard laughter behind me. Lucy’s. I spun around, but the passageway was empty. “Lucy! Lucy!”

  “Brady… Brady…”

  “Brady… Brady, wake up.” Cam was kneeling over me, his hands on my shoulders. “Please wake up.”

  I blinked up at him. My heart was pounding. I stank of sweat, despite the cold. “Am I awake?”

  Cam rocked back and forward slightly on his knees. His face was pale in the darkness. “I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t know!”

  “What do you—” Movement outside our glass cage caught my eye.

  A shape in the darkness. A tall, looming shape.

  “Cam-ren. Bray-dee.”

  Impossible.

  No no no no no.

  I tried to say Cam’s name, but I didn’t have the breath. He pulled me up into his embrace. I buried my face in his neck. I could feel him shaking just as badly as I was.

  “It’s not real.” He didn’t know that, though. His uncertainty and fear bled through. “It’s okay. It’s not real.”

  Kai-Ren circled us in the darkness.

  I could feel his stare as he moved.

  I kept my eyes squeezed shut and my face hidden. I held on to Cam tightly.

  “It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not—”

  A dull crash against the side of the cage. Kai-Ren’s fists? My heart seized, then stuttered. Any second now…

  Nothing.

  I was gripping the back of Cam’s T-shirt so tightly that my fingers hurt. Every breath sounded a little like a sob as I clung to him. My knees ached. My feet were cold. My senses, crippled by fear, were slowly coming back to themselves.

  Cam’s breath shuddered out of him. He slid a hand down my spine and straightened up. “He’s gone.”

  He released me before I was ready. I grabbed for the blanket and pulled it around myself.

  “He’s gone,” he repeated in my head.

  We sat together in the middle of our cage and stared out into the gloom. There was nothing moving there now but our imaginations.

  Chapter Seven

  In the morning— Well, it was probably the morning. There was no way to tell for sure. The lights got turned up at some point, but it could still have been the middle of the night for all we knew. Anyway, at some point the lights came on and the lift doors rolled open, and four MPs marched down toward us. Left right, left right, like they were on the parade ground and the brass was watching.

  Static crackled, and then one of them spoke. “You have medical testing today. Lieutenant Rushton, step forward, sir.”

  Cam rubbed a hand over his eyes and climbed slowly to his feet. He held his hand down for me.

  “No,” the MP said. “Crewman Garrett, stay down. Hands on the floor.”

  “What the fuck? Seriously? What do they think I am, LT? A ninja?” I flipped them the bird before I obeyed.

  We’d talked about this last night. It had been impossible to get back to sleep after our shared nightmare, or hallucination, or whatever the hell that was. We knew they’d separate us and try to get us to reveal our connection somehow. We wouldn’t. And then, hopefully, they’d have to release us. They couldn’t keep us here forever, right?

  We were strong enough to do this, to handle whatever they threw at us, for ourselves and for Lucy. We promised each other we wouldn’t break. We promised each other that we’d protect Lucy from the military.

  The MPs opened the door. A rush of warmer air flowed into our cell.

  “Hey, LT, ask them to turn the heat up!”

  “Sure,” Cam said, flashing me a smile. “I’ll do that right after my champagne breakfast, shall I?”

  The MPs cuffed his hands behind his back.

  I showed Cam my middle finger as well.

  “Good luck, Cam.”

  “You too, Brady.”

  “Love you.” I think we both thought that at the exact same time.

  The cell door slammed shut again. I bundled up Cam’s blanket to use as a pillow and curled up again. A couple of minutes later, the MPs were back. Cam wasn’t with them. When they opened the door for me, I thought about making them come in and drag me out, but I couldn’t see how getting punched in the head would improve my situation.

  I could play nice.

  If I really had to.

  It felt good to be out of that cold cell. Even with my hands cuffed and no idea where I was going, it felt good. The MPs shoved me into the back corner of the lift, and I stood there, trying to get a look at the panel to see how far down we were. I couldn’t tell, but it took a while before the doors opened again and I saw natural light.

  We were in an administration block. Offices lined either side of the wide corridor. Not the shiny, large offices belonging to the shiny, large officers, but poky little rooms where clerks pushed paper back and forth all day. We rounded a corner, and things got more familiar: this was intel. And right behind door 2F was the room where Cam and I had spent countless hours trying to guess what flash cards we were each looking it.

  Which meant 2G was the room with the treadmills where the doctors came and did stress tests on us, 2H was the interview room with the lie detector and the gap where one of the ceiling panels didn’t fit flush against the wall, and 2I was where I’d sat and watched a whole bunch of footage about the Faceless with electrodes stuck to my temples and my
chest while a camera recorded every expression on my face and replayed it for the shrinks later.

  “You here, Cam?”

  “I’m here.”

  I wasn’t sure which room, but he was close. “Did you get that breakfast yet?”

  “Not even a coffee.”

  He didn’t sound worried, so I figured we were okay.

  My mistake.

  The MPs took me around another corner and knocked on the door. Major Hanron opened it and stood back so I could walk inside.

  “Garrett. How did you sleep?”

  “It’s cold down there.” I rolled my stiff shoulders. “Sir.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  Really? Because I got the impression it was completely intentional, and he was one human-rights violation away from blasting god-awful fucking music at us for hours on end until we couldn’t even hear ourselves scream.

  “Take a seat, Garrett.”

  The chair was comfortable, at least. It was also in the center of the room, which felt a little bit creepy. Like he’d be able to sit behind his desk and stare at me as though I was something on display for him.

  One of the MPs remained inside. The door was closed.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Hanron said. He picked up a small plastic case from his desk and flipped it open. “We’re just going to have a little chat.”

  Sure. I’ll sit here in my underwear in the middle of your office, and we’ll chat.

  Hanron lifted a syringe out of the case.

  “What the fuck is that?” I tried to stand, but my hands were still cuffed, and the MP was behind me, fingers digging into my shoulders, pushing me down again. Then Hanron was right in front of me, and the sudden sharp stab of the needle brought tears to my eyes. “What…what is that?”

  Hanron put the syringe back in the case. “Don’t panic, Garrett. It won’t hurt you.”

  I twisted my neck to stare at the blood welling from the tiny wound.

  “Brady? What happened?”

  I tried to keep a lid on my panic. “Hanron injected me with something.”