Page 23 of Origin (Deridia #13)

There was an ache in his middle that had nothing to do with the pressure in his head. It was loss before its time. Separation he didn’t want. Didn’t need.

There were holes. Flickers. And maybe that was the most he’d ever get about his past life. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He was someone new, here. With a chance to do right by one person, and that did not include making a fuss.

He’d made a promise, and he would keep to it. Even when it was hard.

“A couple of headaches,” Ellion answered, waving his hand toward his head to gesture how all-encompassing they were.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the doctor answered, and she was much better at coating her words with something near to sincerity than the grey man. “We don’t talk about it enough, but some individuals are far more susceptible to atmospheric changes. No planet is entirely the same from the next. If we were staying, I’d give a course of injections to assist your introduction.” She pulled out a tablet and skimmed over its contents. “You are a fairly new participant.” She nodded to herself, pleased with the confirmation. “You’ll have to settle for pills, I’m afraid. Not quite as effective, but I can give you one injection to get you started.” No talk of being careful not to let the pills get nicked. Because she wouldn’t know about that, would she? She was medical staff. Look over her patients, give them kind eyes and a bit of understanding, then be on her way.

He took a breath. “Thanks,” he managed, because Hana would be courteous.

“Of course. We want our patients hale and hearty.” She added a smile, and it was warm and friendly, and in another life he might have thought her pretty. The awareness was there, but none of the allure. It was a strange sort of detachment, one that set him itching for a different smile. Warmer eyes.

He didn’t grumble out a retort. Nothing about how if that was true, they might want to reconsider the conditions in the tunnels. She would see those soon enough. Probably already had. Would mend calluses, tend open wounds from where delicate skin split from too-hard labour, and that was that. Never mind afterward. That people could die in between quarterly visits from their benevolent wardens.

“I’ll need a bit of blood. For the test,” she explained, approaching him with a square device and gesturing toward his sleeve. “If you wouldn’t mind.” As if choices were his.

But he didn’t grumble about that, either. Just tended to his sleeve and didn’t care that he offered the arm with the tattoo. That she’d see.

Would she recognise the number?

It burned on his tongue to ask. His heart raced with the want of it.

Opportunities were few, and she was so close, and she would have to know, wouldn’t she? Even that tablet of hers likely held much of his record. She was focused on pressing the device into his forearm, and he could reach out. Snag it with his other hand. Get a good skim before she even noticed he’d moved at all.

“Anxious?” the doctor asked, and he realised his breathing had altered.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, worried the bot would offer him a selection of music again. In between a few more pleases.

Then he’d have to convince himself yet again there would be no punching, and his patience really was wearing thin.

He wanted Hana. He wanted a hug. He wanted to close his eyes and rub at his head until all this temptation was gone. To say something. Wrong. Right. He didn’t know the difference anymore.

She moved back once the device let out a shrill sort of bleat. It hadn’t hurt, but he was so distracted with his own head, maybe he simply hadn’t noticed it.

“I’m seeing a downward trend on a few of your levels. Nothing too concerning, but we want to put a stop to that before you start feeling the effects.” She nodded to herself, not waiting for him to say that he understood. “A couple of shots and you should be on your way.”

“A couple?” Ellion asked, knowing it did no good to question, but the words came before his sense.

“The one we previously discussed. A supplement for your nutrition levels. That will be followed with a course of pills that should last until our next visit. Then there’s the customary Steralex injection.”

Ellion blinked. “You sterilise people?”

He should have wondered about it already. How they could sneak about in their beds and yet he’d seen no children.

She blinked. “Forced sterilisation is a serious offence.” She looked at him, not quite as warm as before. But still as sincere. “Our injections are safe and, most importantly, temporary. Should circumstances change, there would be no lasting harm to fertility for any of you.”

He didn’t know if he believed that, but He wasn’t particularly upset about it either. What would happen to a child in a place like this? A baby?

Taken away, most likely. And that was a horror he couldn’t imagine Hana living through, let alone himself.

“Anymore questions?” she asked, her tone perfectly professional.

Like what the difference was between a permanent sterilisation and a temporary injection that could not be refused? Why one was so abhorrent and the other perfectly reasonable? Their sentences here were for life. What difference did it make?

“No,” Ellion answered. But not for her. For Hana. Because they were going to be lovers soon, and while he didn’t mind a shot in his arm that apparently stopped their ability for babies, she might have different feelings on the matter.

And he couldn’t change protocols. Couldn’t offer her more than comfort and a listening ear, but he’d do what he could.

What else didn’t he know?

Everything, he thought with a grimace. But he needed to pay more attention. Not get so wrapped up in him and her that he forgot about the rest. Why did they not have staff that remained on the compound, relying on a liaison to keep records the Narada could not? Why did they provide access to books about building and woodcraft if they were not allowed to make modifications to the ones already standing?

The bot provided the injections. She gave instructions on dosage relative to his size, and he could well imagine Hana flinching when a number was given. As if one’s mass relative to the gravitational pull of a planet mattered so very much.

He loved her just as she was. He needed to tell her that more. Compliment all the features he found compelling.

He ran a hand through his hair. There was much he needed to do. The bot approached him and the doctor rose, presumably to leave. “I do have a question,” Ellion declared, the bot touching him with artificially warmed digits as it prepared his arm. “There were pamphlets. Before. About this place. I was wondering if you had access to any more of them.”

Her head canted. “Promotional material,” she corrected. “I’m sure we have some around here somewhere. May I ask what use they will be?”

It was a gamble. To ask. To lie. Pretend he remembered when he most certainly did not. “I liked the pictures.”

She softened. “Of course. I’ll see what I can find for you. Give us a moment to get your pills together and you’ll be discharged.”

The needle stung, and the bot was saying something about discomfort and it would pass quickly.

“Thank you,” he offered. Because she’d been kind. Perhaps she was an awful person, profiting from desperate folk that chose a place like this over their other options. But she was polite and professional, and Hana would have thanked her.

“You’re most welcome,” she answered back. “Until next time.”

Then she shut the door, and the bot was telling him he could roll down his sleeve. Expect some pain at the injection site, and he would be given a pill to take if he experienced severe swelling or enlargement of his tongue.

Ellion gave it a look, because those seemed like some startling symptoms, ones that should be monitored by a doctor if they truly thought it was a possibility.

“Probabilities are extremely low,” the bot soothed, as if that was sufficient reassurance. “But we want to put every patient at ease that there will be no ramifications to their treatments.”

“Sure,” Ellion muttered, pushing down his sleeve and doing the cuff. “I’m definitely at ease.”

“Excellent,” the bot answered, obviously not noting how derisive Ellion had been. “Then I hope your visit today was satisfactory, and we look forward to returning to your district in the future.” It whirred closer to the door and opened it. “Please exit the room at your earliest convenience.”

Ellion briefly wondered if anyone had stayed beyond their welcome. Enjoyed the conditioned air and the bright environment. It was clean. He could at least give it that. Private, with the door shut.

Just... refused to leave one day.

How many of the blue-clad staff were prepared to bully a prisoner out of their medical bay? Perhaps they’d offer sedation first. A quick jab and then that poor soul would wake up, confused and disappointed, back in their cupboard.

He didn’t linger.

Another bot came over and offered him a container of pills. “Colour coded,” it insisted. “Please do not pour out a handful and take them without care.”

No individual bottles, then. Easy to store, but easily stolen as well.

And then, papers. In bright colours. And yes, there were pictures, although he did not take the time to study them.

He pushed them up his sleeve, the slick paper accommodating his need for secrecy. His heart raced as if he held something truly illicit, and maybe he did. He forced himself to calm. To hold onto the bottle and act as if everything was just fine. Because it was. He’d done nothing wrong. Just acquired something a little extra. With doctor’s approval.

Had Hana finished? He hoped not. But it made his steps a little quicker, hoping he didn’t catch sight of her. They’d take her pills and then he’d need to do something unpleasant to get them back, and she’d be cross and his hands would be sore, and that wasn’t exactly how he wanted to end the day.

There were far sweeter things he had in mind.

No Hana. But he could see the people lingering at the exit. Trying and failing to appear as if they just happened to be standing there. But eyes darted down to the bottle in his hand, and then the assessment of his person. Was he worth it? There were more of them, but he did not know if they were working in tandem or if they all just leeched and take since the opportunity presented itself.

Why did no one brush them off? They were cluttering the entrance, confusing the comings and goings, and this was about efficiency, wasn’t it?

His job was to protect Hana. Not the rest in line. Not to take charge of a protocol he didn’t know.

The guards seemed more interested in people talking too loud in the line rather than protecting those coming out of the ship.

Typical.

A few greys were walking across the compound, talking amongst themselves. Taking scans and tapping way on tablets, shaking heads and not looking pleased about any of it.

What had they expected to change? There were maintenance crews that cleaned everything without fail. The native grasses and weeds had perhaps been allowed to flourish in the open areas. He was no engineer—or at least, he didn’t think he was. But he doubted something as complex as a drop-ship’s engines could be impacted by a bit of foliage.

He saw her curls before he caught sight of the rest of her. Waiting for her pills. Nodding along to the bots, thanking each of the one she saw. He couldn’t hear any of it, but it was plain enough what she was doing. Smiling softly. Acting as if this was a perfectly normal thing to have done once a season.

To her, it was.

She took a breath when they were finished with her, and he could see her head turn to look at the doors behind her. The ones with patients tucked inside.

Looking for him, he realised, and his own lips pulled upward.

Her face shadowed, and he would not risk pushing into the ship even to collect her. Things had gone well enough, and they were almost done with it.

But he could be nearer the opening. He moved carefully, watching her clutch her bottle and fully expecting to be waylaid at her exit. Others were staring, ready to lunge. To scramble and take and she wouldn’t fight it. Would let them, regardless of her own health.

He shoved his own bottle of pills into his shirt, down his sleeve. Awkward and it left an obvious bulge at his forearm, but it left his hands free, which was all he needed.

“Hana,” he called, because he did not want her to think herself alone, and her head darted up.

And she relaxed a moment before she shouldn’t, because a man got close just as her footing left the ship and met hard earth, and he was grabbing for the bottle and Ellion wasn’t close enough. Or hadn’t been.

Hana turned at the brush of fingers against her wrist, and she recoiled, bringing the bottle closer to her chest while the man pressed forward.

Ellion reached out. Grasped him by the back of his shirt. Pulled with enough might that he made a sort of choking sound before the fabric gave way.

“What an odd sound you make,” Ellion observed, the man scrabbling at his shirt, at Ellion’s grip, making to move away. Ellion gave him a nudge, and there sounds of pills against metal made a merry sort of jingle. Shoved in his shirt, tucked tightly into his trousers. “You have been successful.”

“Ellion,” Hana murmured, coming closer to stand behind him. “He didn’t get them.”

“No,” Ellion agreed. “He did not.”

But he got a lot of other people’s. And it wasn’t right. He didn’t need a host of experience to tell him that. He let go of the fabric and this time let his arm come about the man’s throat. “Hana,” he entreated while the man struggled. The guards would come in a moment. Perhaps even someone dressed in blue to subdue him. “Open his shirt, please. And take the bottles.”

A choking sort of gasp, and Ellion loosened his grip just a touch. “What was that?”

“One of them’s mine!” the man got out.

“And I wouldn’t dare take it from you,” Ellion assured him. “Because I’m not a thief. And I don’t prey on people, despite what you’re doing.”

Hana wasn’t comfortable. That much was obvious. She didn’t bother with buttons and laces, just yanked the shirt free of the trousers and watched the bottles fall on the ground. He didn’t like to see her kneeling to pick them up, and he moved the man backward so he wouldn’t dare lash out and kick at her while she did it.

“What’s going on here?”

A grey man. Not blue. With a tablet and a grim face.

“Sorry, boss,” Ellion murmured to Hana, not to him. Because he’d broken one of her rules, and there would be words about this later.

She shook her head. Took a breath.

“This man tried to steal from me,” she explained. Shaking the bottle in her hand and nudging the others with her toe as she stood up. “Apparently I’m not the first.”

The grey man frowned. “Release him.”

Ellion complied, because to do otherwise would only draw more trouble to himself. He already didn’t like that Hana had involved herself. He should have spoken first. Made sure they understood he’d acted alone.

“I’ll admit,” the grey man acknowledged, looking down at the array of bottles. The others had disappeared, slinking away behind the ship before they could be drawn into the altercation. “This doesn’t look well for you, son.”

An interesting honorific, one Ellion related more to age than actual familiarity. He hadn’t noticed the age of the man. He’d been concerned with subduing rather than details of his person.

“They planted it,” he spat back, rubbing at his throat and scowling. “Tried to take my bottle.”

Hana knelt back down. “If you’ll show me your arm, I’ll make sure you keep yours.”

She picked up the rest and made to hand them to the grey man. He made no move to take it, only watched. He wasn’t the same as the one seated in the office. Younger. Less white along his temples. “You are our liaison?” he clarified.

“Yes, ser,” Hana nodded. “I can swear to what happened. Or sign something.” She didn’t address the waiting line. Didn’t suggest they might act as witnesses.

It did not take long for him to consider why. They held no fondness for her. They might lie just to prove spiteful.

“Tell me truly, liaison,” the man continued. “Has this happened before?”

This was why they hated her, wasn’t it? Because she’d tell them. Speak up. Tell the truth. And there would be consequences for offenders, and they’d deem her a snitch, and hate her for it.

Never mind, she was trying to help. Never mind, she was trying to protect the majority.

Ellion didn’t doubt her. Knew she wouldn’t hedge. She’d speak plainly, and her list of enemies would grow, and she’d somehow twist it all and think she’d done something wrong.

“Yes,” she answered, nodding her head but staring at the bottles. She didn’t elaborate.

The grey man stood a little taller. “Thank you for your candour. I believe this discussion would best continue in private.”

He nodded to her and then gestured for the thief to join them.

No such provision was given to him.

Hana glanced at him, shaking her head. And it took a great deal to watch them head back to the office. To stand and only allow himself to follow at a great distance. To trudge a perimeter about the building itself once they were tucked inside.

He hated it. Felt he was going to claw out of his skin more than once. He watched as a man emerged. When a crew was dispatched to the dormitories. When people were rounded up and searched with scanners. Bottles were found. Just one and they could leave. Any others and they were brought to the office as well.

With Hana in there for them to blame. To dedicate to memory. Let the first kernels of hate grow.

In and out, but none of them were the one he was supposed to be protecting. And how was he going to intervene, save her from herself, if he was not permitted to participate?

He paced. While the line grew short, he kept up his vigil; the circuit growing smaller over the course of his pacing. A little nearer. A bit closer. Not enough to hear. To peek inside the window. But it was something to do. The alternative was to sit and watch the door directly, and somehow he did not think that would be taken as kindly.

He was hungry. He knew it in a vague sort of way. Easily dismissed. What was harder was knowing Hana would feel much the same. But she would be told to wait, and what if this took longer than the supper hour? So she’d be forced to go to bed hungry, and she wouldn’t complain, but he would worry.

A guard approached him. “You are ignoring your designated rations. Rectify this.”

Arguments were quick on his tongue. He had work to do, and they were not allowing him to do it. But that would also be to suggest she was in danger when she was with them. Which she was. Supremely so. But they wouldn’t see it that way. They were the governors of order. If they wanted you punished, that was only just.

“My charge is in there,” Ellion explained weakly, gesturing toward the office.

“She is a part of an investigation. Your presence is not required. Go eat.”

This was punctuated by a tap of a club against his back. Not hard. Didn’t even sting. Perhaps the grey man had a talk with them after all.

“Am I to take your hesitation as disobedience?”

Ellion sighed. Shook his head. She wouldn’t be pleased to find him bloodied and bruised, either.

Quickly then. Then right back out here. Maybe he could even smuggle something back to her. Except puddles did not fit well into pockets.

The kitchen staff were back. The meal was lacking in variety—as if they had time to throw one big pot together and that was deemed sufficient. Less of a puddle and more of a stew. With actual chunks of what he assumed to be meat. Not wholly appetising, and he was almost resentful of their presence, for they took longer to chew than the usual veg cooked beyond all texture.

He did not expect to be approached. For a man to sit across from him. Where Hana was meant to be—which did not make his presence particularly welcome. Two others flanked his back. All stared at him, as if he should be intimidated by their attention.

“You’ve got a lot of audacity,” the man started. Ellion nearly picked up his tray and went back outside.

“Do I?” Ellion countered, his frustration letting him engage when he likely should not.

A head tilted. He bore no hair—either a genetic defect or he had access to a blade that could cut so close to the skin. A blade which could be on him at the moment. Or perhaps given to one man behind him. For defence .

“There’s a way things are done here. And you interfered with that. And I can’t say I much appreciate it.”

Ellion leaned forward. Perhaps it was stupidity rather than bravery. Perhaps he put too much stock in what his previous life had been able to handle. But he was tired and worried and far too on edge, and if those men had been stationed there, picking off medicine on this man’s behalf, Ellion could not claim to have much patience for it.

“I have one job here,” Ellion informed him. Reminded him. Everyone saw him with her. All the time. There could be little doubt as to his task. “And she was interfered with. Did you think I would appreciate it?”

Dark eyes narrowed, and the men beside him moved. Not coming around the table. Not yet. But they were poised for the order.

Muscles tensed in Ellion as well, ready to counter. To stand. To bash a few heads into the tabletop and he wouldn’t be sorry for it.

Maybe later. When Hana convinced him to be. But not in this moment, and certainly not enough to stop him from doing it if they made a move toward him.

“So,” the man continued. Still staring. Still looking as if Ellion was beneath him. That was fine. “You’re asking for your girl to be off limits. That’ll have a cost.” Ellion smoothed his thumb against the edge of his utensil. Not sharp in the least. But it would certainly hurt if rammed hard enough against something delicate. A nose. An eye. Perhaps even something lower down if he could find the opportunity.

“My girl,” Ellion repeated, making no attempt to disguise how reductive he found that title. “Is the only one putting herself between all of us and the wardens. And you haven’t made that any easier on her, have you?”

A shrug of broad shoulders. “Not my job to make it easy. But if you’re willing to negotiate terms, I can be a reasonable man. Maybe even forgive today’s little intervention.”

Eye first, Ellion decided. “And what are you proposing?”

“You’ve got a way about you. I can always use a new enforcer on my crew.” He nodded toward the men at his back. “You get me what’s mine and I’ll leave off the girl. Best way you can do that job of yours, really.”

He seemed quite genuine in his proposal.

And Ellion hated it.

What was his was likely part of the trade Hana had mentioned. Perhaps some were offered freely, but he doubted it. Cohesion at its finest. Preying on the desperate.

Which Ellion was not.

“A counter,” Ellion offered. “You leave my table. I forget we had this talk.”

The man snorted. “That’s it?”

Ellion gave a single nod. “That’s it.”

His eyes grew harder. “You want an enemy of me?”

Ellion blinked, shaking his head and looking as bemused as he felt. “Not at all. I’m fairly certain you’re looking to make one of me, though.”

His lip curled. Not a smile, and not quite a sneer, but some horrible in between. He was a large man. Probably the largest in the prison. Burly. That was the word. His hands came to the tabletop and formed into fists, and they were disproportionally large. “You seem a little too comfortable in this place.”

Ellion didn’t disagree. For all its faults, he liked it well enough. He’d probably think very differently if he worked the farms. Was trapped down in the tunnels. Even if he had to scrub out latrines all day. But he didn’t. Not yet. Because he was an escort, and he’d finished his food, as well as this conversation. “Don’t steal from the liaison anymore. No,” he amended. “She doesn’t exist to you. Not to look at, not to touch, not to stalk. She’s a ghost, and you don’t have the Sight. Agreed?”

The man laughed. Full and hearty. “You really don’t have a grip on bargaining, do you? You forget to add what it is I get in return.”

Ellion shook his head just once, standing from the table. “I didn’t,” he disagreed. “I forget we had this talk. And you go back to being the man that sits over there. This time without the glancing every time I sit down. Yes?”

He waited. And he was fairly certain the man was going to keep him there with silence alone, but Ellion was not much interested in such games.

He swivelled, taking his tray with him. “You think we were finished?” The man’s voice cut through the hum of the room. A deep bellow. Angry. Ellion turned his head, but only just.

“No. But I am.”

He dropped his tray in the receptacle. Went back outside.

He didn’t run. But there was a marginal urgency, because it wasn’t over. Not yet. The lackeys would be after him soon enough. With instructions to ease negotiation with a little bit of pain. Maybe even a lot of it.

Ellion could take a few. Of that he was certain. But he was not na?ve enough to think he could take a group. He had no allies to call upon. Not even Hana.

He saw them exit in the mess hall, their heads swivelling to catch sight of him. He wasn’t hiding. Wasn’t lying in wait to despatch them. But he could have. The impulse was certainly there. The way his heart had grown unnaturally calm. His hands were steady.

He knew how to do this.

To be hunted. How to use it to his advantage. It would be brutal, and he’d be sore in the morning, because he’d have to resort to blows rather than a clean kill. He’d need weapons for that. Or enough height to snap necks before they had a chance to counter.

Those instincts had frightened him when first they’d made an appearance. Had filled him with concern over what sort of man he must have been, what sort of occupation had employed him.

It didn’t anymore.

He went to the office.

Watched as their steps grew hesitant, their swift pace stalling into nothing as his hand rose against the door.

She’d be furious.

But this was the alternative, wasn’t it? There was still a pamphlet in his sleeve. Still a bottle of pills because he hadn’t let himself go to his dorm to drop it off.

To protect himself as he protected her. To ask the clarifying questions before he did what was necessary.

His fist fell against the door. Just once. Then again, so they could not think it was an accident.

And did not have to wait long for the door to open.