Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [142]
‘I don’t think it was a robbery. A kitchen fire, I suspect. We were leaving when it all erupted.’
Everett tugged harder. Was he trying to blow their cover? He couldn’t believe he was engaging the woman. And where had his accent gone? Everett was forming a clear request for the tech that would take her away from the desk when she jerked forward, cradling her neck. She closed her eyes and moaned, her brow furrowing.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, pushing Grayson aside.
‘It felt like I got hit with a crowbar.’
‘Let me see your eyes.’ He wondered what she was playing at now, but her pupils were unequal. She actually did look as if she had been hit with a crowbar.
‘You better get that scanned,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to call relief?’
‘It’s fine,’ she said, still rubbing her neck. ‘I should just get back to work.’
He punched in a sequence to her com link. ‘They won’t be long. Best get it checked out.’
Grayson was frowning as they headed down the hall.
‘What was that about?’ Everett asked. He lengthened his stride as they passed another central station; there was no telling who he’d start chatting with next.
‘I thought it best to engage her.’
‘Had I not made it clear? The goal is anonymity.’
‘She was curious about me. If I hadn’t talked to her, she’d have run a search. We both know what that would have come up with.’ Grayson adjusted the pack on his back. At least the pup was quiet.
Everett turned the corner and led them into an open elevator. As the doors closed he squared off in front of Grayson.
‘What happened to Nessa? She looked like she had a concussion.’
‘Rosette, I suspect.’
‘Rosette?’
‘I think she’d had enough of the banter.’
Everett was about to question him further when the elevator door opened. Three med students entered, wheeling a gurney. On it lay a comatose patient—a woman whose skin was as grey as the walls, eyes staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling with the forced pressure of the ventilator. The students were chatting about their case, debating the merits of putting her in deep cryo while waiting for organ synthesis, or a donation from a feral. The one nearest him looked up, indicating the control panel. Everett raised his eyebrows.
‘Cryo,’ the student answered, pointing towards the top floor.
Everett nodded, his body going rigid. He had no idea how they would get Rosette out now with a troupe of med students underfoot.
I wish he’d relax. He’s like a racehorse at the gate. Rosette sent her thoughts to Drayco, more to keep herself calm than anything else. She knew her familiar could sense what was going on from his side of the ‘wall’, as he called it. Still, she longed for the comfort of his voice in her mind. Mind? She laughed. Do I even have a mind any more?
Of course you do, Maudi.
Really? Where is it? I’d love to know.
Drayco didn’t answer but followed her earlier thought. The man’s somewhat jittery, I agree. Looks like the new arrivals aren’t helping.
Oh, but they will! Rosette flattened her energy against the top of the elevator as the med students loaded on. Their presence was just what she needed, a stroke of luck. They would provide plenty of distraction, giving her time to weave her glamour. She was getting the hang of it, affecting matter with thought. She’d had enough practice at Treeon, of course, and with Nell, but her body had acted as a conduit. She realised that now. Without physicality her energy blasted out in all directions unless she focused very clearly, like a pinpoint. The trick was staying relaxed and keeping the energy flowing. It wasn’t going to be that hard. All she had to do was conceal her corpse with a glamour long enough for Grayson to get her to the portal. She could do it. She had to do it. Can you hear Scylla at all, Drayco?
I can’t even rouse Fynn. What did they do to him?
Everett gave him more sedatives.
Perhaps he should have taken a dose himself.
Rosette undulated in laughter. That’s an idea, but let Fynn be. We don’t need him bounding out of that