‘Cally, get behind the door,’ Avon said, lurching up from the bunk as if preparing himself to launch across the cell at the newcomer.
‘Stay where you are,’ Cally snapped back. ‘You’re in no fit state to—’
‘Don’t worry about me. This could be our only chance.’
Cally flattened herself against the wall as the door was pulled open. Avon looked up, only to find himself staring into the twin barrels of a rifle.
‘Leylana, please, is that really necessary?’
‘You tell me. Looks like he’s getting ready to jump.’
A gnarled hand rested on the barrel of the gun and gently pushed it aside. ‘I don’t think he can walk, let alone jump,’ said its owner, an ashen-face old man with a warm, honest face. Leylana, a stocky woman with short-cropped, dark hair, lowered her gun reluctantly.
‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Avon grunted, nearly toppling off his bed. Cally raced over from her hiding place to catch him. Avon scowled, but gratefully grabbed hold of her arm.
‘Please, save your strength.’ The old man hobbled into the cell, leaning heavily on a walking stick which looked like it at been fashioned out of old piping. Walking was obviously difficult. He was all but doubled over and his breath rasped in his chest. ‘Your wound was quite serious, I’m afraid.’
‘And who’s fault is that?’ shot back Avon as he rested against the wall.
‘Show some respect,’ Leylana barked, hefting her gun back up in warning.
‘The same respect we showed him, you mean, Leylana? I won’t tell you again, put down your weapon.’
The gunwoman glared at the old man.
‘Avon, this is Karter.’
‘I thought as much. You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up.’
A sad smile stretched over Karter’s face.
‘You have every right to be angry. I understand how frustrating it is to be locked up in here.’
‘Somehow I doubt that.’
Karter’s gaze flicked around the room for a second, a shadow passing over his face.
‘It may surprise you to know, that this station wasn’t always fitted with cells. But that’s a story for another time. How is he, Cally?’
‘I’m fine,’ Avon said through clenched teeth.
‘He’s sounding more like his usual self,’ Cally said. ‘Although we could probably both do with something to eat.’
‘My thoughts precisely.’ Karter turned back to the door. ‘Mikel, it’s safe to come in. Leylana has put her gun away.’
‘Mikel?’ Cally looked towards the door expectantly, ‘he’s here?’
‘Indeed he is, although more than a little shy, I’m afraid. Come on, my boy, you’re among friends.’
If anyone noticed the look that crossed Avon’s face, they didn’t respond.
A face appeared around the door, uncertain and nervous. Karter gestured with a rheumatic hand.
‘That’s it, lad, bring in our guests’ food.’
Cally didn’t know who was more appalled at the use of the word ‘guest’, Leylana or Avon.
With hesitant steps, Mikel walked into the cell. He was carrying a metal tray with two small plates piled high with some kind of stew. Never taking his eyes off Cally, he inched towards them.
‘I’m afraid it is only a few root vegetables. Since the accident, our hydroponics bay has been put under some strain, to say the least. I try my best, but my green fingers aren’t what they were. I did hope that Leylana here might take the reins from me…’ He glanced at the guard who was purposely avoiding his gaze. ‘But her heart isn’t really in horticulture.’ He gestured with his free hand. ‘Please, eat.’
Cally took the plates from Mikel’s tray and offered one to Avon. He turned his head away, obviously trying not to retch.
‘You’re not actually going to eat that, are you? For all we know, it could be poisoned.’
‘My boy, if they were going to kill you, my associates would have done so by now.’
‘No, instead we’re going to waste our rations on them,’ Leylana muttered beneath her breath. ‘Much better.’
‘I think it’s time we left you to your meal,’ Karter said with a sigh, turning to leave. ‘Come on, Mikel, you can see Cally again later.’
‘You’ll know where to find us,’ Avon said flatly.
‘No, Karter,’ Cally interjected, placing Avon’s plate on the bed beside him. ‘Can’t you stay? I thank you for your kindness…’ she could almost feel Avon’s eyebrows raising at that, ‘…but as I’m sure you’ll understand, we do have a lot of questions. We came here in peace and have been attacked and incarcerated. We deserve some answers.’
Karter was silent for a minute as he considered her words. He turned back and regarded Cally for an instance, as if weighing up his options. Finally, a smile crossed his lips as he made a decision.
‘Very well, I will stay…’
‘Karter, that isn’t—’
‘Leylana, take Mikel outside with you and stay on the other side of the door. It isn’t so thick as you won’t hear if I’m in trouble. If they betray my trust, then you have my full permission to come in guns blazing—although you need to remember that Lant wanted them kept alive.’
The woman shook her head and started backing out of the room, never letting Avon and Cally lose sight of her rifle.
‘On your head be it, Karter.’ When she had crossed the threshold she reached over, grabbed the handle of the door and began to pull it shut. ‘If you’re coming out, you’d better do it now, Mikey.’
The emphasis Leylana put on Mikel’s name was not a pleasant one. The boy looked at Karter and, when the old man nodded, glanced briefly at Cally before scampering from the room.
The door slammed shut and they heard Leylana throw the bolt.
‘Please,’ Karter urged again, indicating the rapidly cooling stew, ‘eat.’
Cally looked down at the bland-looking concoction in her bowl. She breathed in deeply, but could make out little in the way of aroma. She dipped her spoon into the watery broth and took a sip.
‘Dreadful, isn’t it?’ Karter had lowered himself onto the bunk on the opposite side of the cell, and was watching her eat with a knowing smile, leaning on that strange cane of his. ‘We have little in the way of fertilisers to replenish the soil in the botanical gardens. I’m always amazed we manage to grow anything at all. But somehow we’ve managed.’ He looked around the room. ‘Managed to keep it all going.’
He looked down at Avon’s bowl, still sitting on the bed.
‘Still, you must be hungry, young man.’
‘I make it a point not to socialise with anyone who imprisons me.’
Cally took another sip of the stew and tried not to react to Avon’s words. Concussion or not, didn’t he realise what she was doing? Karter didn’t seem like the rest of the station’s crew. The fact that he was even sitting with them must count for something. If she could get him on side…
‘Just keep quiet and let me do the talking,’ she thought at Avon, opening a telepathic connection between them. He stiffened beside her, obviously about to respond, but she silenced him with a short, sharp: ‘I mean it.’
‘I apologise for my friend,’ she said out loud, giving Karter her most winning smile. ‘The knock he received to his head seems to have affected his manners.’
Karter waved the apology away.
‘He has every right to be angry. I know I was the first time I was locked in this room.’
Cally’s brow furrowed. ‘You were locked here?’
‘Sorry, I am getting ahead of myself. Now, where to begin.’
‘I’ve always found the beginning as good a place as any,’ Avon snarled.
Karter smiled wearily. ‘Very well. It all began with a man called Farrow Lant.’