Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [99]
Jo-Jo felt the floor harden to accommodate the new weight.
‘Now!’ He scrambled to his feet, hauling Mira up with him.
They ran through the dim tunnel. Mira lifted the folds of her robe to make it easier, but she was still hampered by them. Jo-Jo caught her twice as she stumbled, but in truth he could barely manage her weight, his own strength diminishing rapidly.
The tunnel began to buckle and fold, the ceiling collapsing behind them as they moved.
By the time they reached the outer wall, only a short length of tunnel remained. Jo-Jo ran his hands over the blemish.
‘What are you doing?’ she panted.
‘The ’zoon ripped its coupling here; it’s still healing and there’s a weakness.’
Her reply was a strangled noise, and her fingers tugged at his robe. Over his shoulder, Jo-Jo glimpsed the last of the passage disappearing. The object had spread right out to the ship’s limits, and in a moment it would crush them.
‘Shit!’ Jo-Jo gouged at the roughened blemish. ‘Scratch it, hit it. Anything!’
Mira roused herself and joined him, pinching and pushing at the skin. She cried a name he didn’t recognise. ‘Wanton!’
Another loud crack. Then the sound of something wet and heavy moving behind them. Jo-Jo felt pressure against his back and neck. This time he couldn’t turn his head to see. He was pinned to the wall, his chest struggling to expand enough for him to breathe.
Next to him, Mira’s eyes were closed, as if she were concentrating on something else. He clawed the wall with his fingers and dug his toes into it with the small room for movement he had left.
‘Take my hand,’ Mira said suddenly.
Her eyes were open, and clear. Strain showed on her face.
He reached down and felt her slim fingers grip his own. She squeezed his palm, giving comfort. Strength and calm flowed from her. His breathing steadied despite the crushing weight.
‘It’s going to expand again,’ she said. ‘Be ready.’
Jo-Jo had long fantasised about her voluntary touch, and the irony of it coming now angered him. He squeezed her hand and laboured over the words he had to say. ‘I would’ve – come – anyway. Sole – didn’t need – to – make me.’
He saw her brief surprise and something else, something he couldn’t quite read.
Then the pressure began to build again, and his ribs felt like they were breaking. He tried to brace, tried to fight the compression, refusing to let go of Mira’s hand even when her fingers went slack.
No. No!
Then the outer skin split, and he tumbled free.
MIRA
‘Wanton!’
Mama? Are you all right?
The pressure against her was so great that Mira could barely breathe. Nova, can you – speak to – Wanton? I’m in – trouble.
Si, Mama. I will try. What should I say?
Unable to think in sentences, Mira shared images of her situation: of the object expanding so rapidly that it was pressing on their backs, and the weakness, the blemish that Josef had spoken of, where Insignia had torn away from the side.
Crushed, Nova. Wanton, help us.
Long moments passed, and the only things she was aware of were her battle to breathe and Josef holding her hand. With every increase of pressure against her body, his grip tightened as though he would never let go.
JO-JO
His fall to the dune below should have been soft, but the distance turned soft sand to rock. He lay, winded and paralysed by the agony of impact, unsure whether he’d broken anything.
Through sand-blurred eyes, he saw the glow emanating from Medium, and behind it a moonlit sky. Thank Crux it was still night. Then the outer skin of the ship ruptured above him, squirting fluid and a sticky wet mass into the hot air and spraying him with sweet fluid.
An intense rush of adrenaline got him upright. He searched frantically for Mira, and saw her in front of him, spreadeagled on her stomach. She’d been thrown further from the craft than he had, and he scrambled over to join her.
She moaned at his touch.
‘Away!’ he cried in her ear. ‘We need to get further away.’
She struggled to her knees and collapsed, her moaning louder.
Jo-Jo swore at himself. He couldn