Chapter 16

 

The plascrete floor was hard, but at least it wasn't cold. Heat leaked through the uninsulated ceiling high overhead. I was thirsty. And hungry. And I wanted a bathroom.

Light fixtures lined the beams on the ceiling providing a dim yellow light. Half of them were not working. The room I was in appeared to be a secure storage space. The ceiling was about fourteen feet above me. The walls went up only twelve, leaving a gap at the top. New looking ducts ran across the space, resting on the tops of the walls.

The cuffs sent random spikes of electricity up my arms every time I moved. I pulled my knees up and dangled my hands over them. The cuffs spat a few sparks sending a tingling jolt up my arms. I twisted my wrists enough so I could see the locking mechanism. The force field generator was there, a tiny black unit set into the metal of the cuffs. The cover that usually protected it was missing.

I crawled over to the grate low in the wall. One corner protruded. I twisted the cuffs around, bending my wrists to try to get the generator unit positioned so I could smash it against the corner of the grate. If I damaged it, the cuffs would still be locked on my arms but at least it would stop the shocks. I got to my knees and lifted my arms. I slammed my wrists against the grate. Pain spiked up my arm.

The unit spat more sparks. Blood dripped from a jagged cut on one wrist. I twisted my arm so I could see. It was short and shallow and stung like crazy. The blood dripped under the cuffs. They buzzed and tingled. I tasted copper in my mouth. Electricity ran up both arms. My hair frizzed, spitting its own set of sparks.

I slammed my wrists against the grate again. A jolt much stronger than the others sent me crashing backwards. I lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling and gasping. The cuffs buzzed. I forced myself back up on my knees. I hit the cuffs against the grating again and again.

The cuffs crackled and spat sparks. I ignored the shocks up my arms as much as I could. I finally battered the unit until it cracked. The force field in the cuffs gave a final shower of sparks as it died.

I sat back and assessed the damage. My wrists had several shallow scrapes and cuts. Only the first one had been deep enough to bleed much. It was scabbing over. I wiped blood off onto my shipsuit.

The cuffs were still securely locked. My hands were still bound, but at least I didn't have the constant buzzing and jolts of electricity running up my arms. I sat back against the wall. I still had no way out of the room. I had no idea why I was locked up.

The door opened. The same man watched me from the hallway, the one who knew my name. His gaze traveled over my bloody wrists and the still locked cuffs.

"You should know force cuffs can't be forced," he said and laughed at his own wit. I didn't join in. He quit laughing and looked coldly at me, his smile wiped completely from his face. "Get up."

He didn't wait for me to comply. He grabbed a handful of my shipsuit and hauled me to my feet. He shoved me out the door then down a short hallway. He banged open another door and pushed me inside.

"You've got five minutes, no more." He shut the door.

I was in a bathroom. The plumbing wasn't working well, to judge by the smell. It also looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. I ignored the filth and used the toilet. The water coming from the sink was brownish and smelled like overgrown algae. I washed my hands but didn't try drinking any.

"Time's up," the man said.

He grabbed my arm and dragged me back down the hall then threw me into the storage room. He tossed a ration bar and a water pouch at me before he shut and locked the door.

I stared down at the bar. They didn't want me dead or they wouldn't be feeding me. Or maybe they just wanted to prolong the torture. I could depress myself too easily. My hands were still mostly numb. I fumbled the wrapper open and made myself eat the bar. I was more careful with the water. I didn't spill it this time.

When I finished, I leaned against the wall. I couldn't see any way out of the room. Overhead, there was little but the ceiling beams and lights. The walls gave no purchase to climb. The lock on the door was not one I could pick. The bolt was thrown from the outside. The air duct near me was too small to crawl through, even though my efforts earlier had loosened the grate. It hung by one screw. I was stuck. For now.

Jasyn and Clark wouldn't leave me here. Somehow they would know where I was and rescue me. Or would they?

How many times had I disrupted their lives? How many times would they risk everything for me?

I pulled my knees up and rested my cheek against them. How many more times would I have to do this? At least this time it wasn't Lowell's fault. It was my own. Whoever these people were, they knew me. I just had to figure out what they wanted. If it was money, I'd gladly give them everything I had. Money wasn't important.

The roof creaked as the heat built in the warehouse. I dozed off.

The door opened and startled me awake. The same man stood outside.

"Get up," he said.

"What do you want from me?" I made no move to get to my feet. I wanted answers. I wanted to know how to buy my way out of this room.

He didn't answer. He just waited, staring down at me.

I sighed and stood. He yanked me through the door and marched me down the hallway by my arm. He shoved me into the bathroom.

"How much money do you want?" I asked before he could slam the door shut.

"I'm being paid, Captain Dace." He jerked the door closed in my face.

"Five hundred thousand if you let me go," I said to the unhearing door.

I used the facilities again. He opened the door when I was washing my hands. He grabbed my arm and marched me into the hall.

"Five hundred thousand," I said again. I was sure he'd heard me before.

He pushed me into the room. "Don't fool yourself. You don't have that much money. Your accounts were confiscated by the Patrol when you were declared wanted for treason last week." He shut the door in my face.

I sat back down on the hard floor. I was wanted for treason? Again? Why? I hadn't had a chance to do anything since Shangrila. Maybe it was a lie. And maybe it wasn't.

My stomach rumbled. I was hungry. He hadn't left anything for me to eat. I sighed and resigned myself to starving for a while. It wasn't important. What was important was getting free. Again. And this time I'd never leave the ship again. Ever.

I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. My wrists were sore. The scabs kept ripping free. Blood stained my sleeves. That pain was minor. I ignored it. I put my head down on my legs and tried not to cry. It wasn't going to solve anything. It never had.

The afternoon dragged by, hot and dry and miserable in the airless room. I slipped in and out of sleep. The roof popped from the heat. Each noise jerked me back awake. My head ached. I tried lying down on the floor. It was hard, but it was marginally cooler. I closed my eyes again.

Something scratched in the duct. Probably rats, I thought. I tried to ignore it. The scratching sound came again. I rolled onto my back, staring at the roof overhead. Sunlight tried to force its way into the warehouse through numerous small cracks.

"Mrow?" The sound was all too familiar. I closed my eyes. I was hallucinating again. It had to be.

Something clawed the grate, banging it against the wall. I turned my head to look.

"Mrow," Ghost said, more demanding this time. She slipped a paw around the grate, trying to push her way out of the duct.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. I wedged my fingers around the grate and pulled it free.

Ghost crawled out of the duct. She sneezed. I brushed my hand down her back releasing a cloud of dust. It was stupid, but seeing the cat here gave me hope. Ghost began to purr, pushing her head into my hand and leaning on my leg.

"I don't know what good it does to have you stuck here," I said. I picked her up, settling her in my lap. She promptly jumped back to the floor. She sat down and began licking her fur clean.

I watched her for a moment. I looked back at the duct. The grate was on the floor next to it. If Ghost had found her way in, she could find her way out. And maybe she could pass a message to Jasyn for me.

I fumbled through my pockets, looking for something, anything, I could send a message with. I had my id plates, but there was no way to attach them to the cat. I sat back in defeat. I had nothing, no way to let Jasyn know where I was. I rubbed my hands over my head, frustrated and hot.

My hand snagged on something inside my collar. I pulled it out. I wore the necklace my father had given me. I'd left it in my cabin before Serrimonia and Trythia and Vance had happened. I'd found it a week ago, buried deep in a drawer. I lifted the necklace free and dangled it in front of me. A sleeping cat nestled on the chain, one eye partly open and an expression of mischief on its face. I looked beyond the necklace at the real cat licking her leg.

I pulled the necklace over my head. I wrapped it around Ghost's neck, loose enough so she wouldn't choke but tight enough it wouldn't slip free. She wasn't very patient. We'd never put a collar on her, she wasn't used to it. She growled, backing away.

"Please, Ghost, just take this to the ship," I whispered as I held her still. "Get Jasyn to take it off. She'll understand."

Ghost shook her head, pawing at her neck. The necklace glittered against her gray fur. She shook her head, trying to work the necklace off. I grabbed her face. She clawed me. I let her go.

The lock on the door rattled. Ghost darted into the duct and disappeared. The door opened behind me. I stayed kneeling with my back to the door. The grate lay on the floor next to me like an accusation.

The man laughed. "Not even you can fit into that duct, but you're welcome to try. I find it amusing."

I sighed and stood, turning to face him. "What do you want?"

He shook his head, chuckling. "Keep trying. You aren't guessing."

"If you don't want money, what do you want? Revenge?"

He shook his head again. "Not me. Move, Captain Dace." He jerked his head down the hallway.

I walked slowly across the room towards him. Maybe I could run past him and down the hall.

He grabbed my arm. "Don't even think of trying," he said in my ear. His breath tickled my neck. "You wouldn't get far and then I'd have to hurt you." He said it in such a reasonable voice that it scared me more than a shouted threat.

His grip on my arm was tight. He bigger and stronger. He wouldn't hesitate to hurt me. He wouldn't kill me, but I would probably wish he had. I'd just have to wait. Maybe tomorrow he would relax and I could fight free.

I gave up that thought when I saw the goons at either end of the hallway. There were at least six. I would never make it out of the building. I had to hope Ghost got the necklace to Jasyn. And that Jasyn would figure out what it meant.