Page 25 of Origin (Deridia #13)

It took far too long for anyone to do anything. Most stood and watched, clustering in clumps at the dormitory windows and doors. Wide-eyed. Nervous. But none willing to be the first to move. To dampen the sparks before they could flicker into flame.

Which meant it was Hana that started it. Because of course it was. She was the one to run out to find the guards, who were also standing and staring at the damaged building, with canted heads and unblinking eyes, finding it all rather odd, considering.

But they lived in holes in the ground. What would they know about fallen debris from high altitudes and the damage it could cause? “We need farm hands,” Hana insisted. “Strong backs. And blankets before the smoke turns to fire, see?” She was gesturing wildly, and they were slow to process her meaning. Or maybe the chip didn’t have word for fire and smoke and necessary protocol for disasters.

“They will not want to share their blankets,” Ellion reminded her, trying to be calm. Taking off his shirt and beginning the battle himself. Boots were better. Easier to control. “What do they care about a building they can’t use?”

“They’re going to care,” Hana bit out, more rage than fear. “When the inspectors get back and they have no place to conduct their interviews.”

That seemed to get the guards moving. To the dormitories. Where people were seemingly dragged from their beds, blankets and all, and ordered to make sure nothing worse happened.

Which was hardly an order at all, and not entirely useful until Hana offered more fervent instruction. The back wall had been crushed. Almost in its entirety. It was incredible the corners were standing. He didn’t trust it, didn’t like to see Hana darting in and out of the building itself, no time or need for a key when there was a gaping hole in the structure itself. The books were first. Of course they were. In haphazard stacks just beyond an invisible perimeter she designated about the crash site. “Watch these, please,” Hana urged a guard, who did not seem intent on helping other than to keep the farmhands beating at anything that smoked.

Back and forth. Over and over. Her containers for paper scraps. The pens. Even the chair with its rollers. All brought with frantic care to the safety of outside, just in case.

It couldn’t stay there. Perhaps Drummond had been taken up in the ship, or maybe he’d been sequestered to the tunnels without their notice, but it wouldn’t be long before people pilfered for their own sakes.

Genuine flame began to flicker, and Ellion was the one to shout for the blankets to be taken to be soaked and brought back.

He didn’t know why he knew it. Didn’t have time to wonder at it.

Just keep moving. Keep trying. Because no one else might care about that building, but he did. It was order, and quiet, and the only true privacy they were afforded. And he’d promised to find them more of it, not less, and it meant something to Hana even more. It was a part of her job, and she thrived in the meticulous care she took of it. In the books with all the knowledge she couldn’t implement. With one place feeling like somewhere else. A different world. One he didn’t know, didn’t remember, but had come to feel like theirs .

And he couldn’t watch it burn.

He couldn’t.

No. He wouldn’t.

What piece of the ship had fallen, he’d no idea. It seemed just a twist of metal. Plating, perhaps? But thicker. Slightly round. Perhaps a sensor of some sort. Something with wires that protruded, and did not particularly appreciate when a wet blanket was flung across the exposure, for it sizzled greatly before it quieted.

Over and over. A line was made as more people were brought out to help. Wetted and passed, hand to hand, until they reached those at the front of it. Whipping and hoping, while he kept his attention torn between the work in front of him and keeping his eye on Hana. Always that. Because she was most important. And there were dangerous people here. Ones that preyed when she wasn’t looking. When she thought herself safe, or was too distracted to notice when she wasn’t. So he had to do it for her. Even amid this particular chaos.

She was talking with a guard again, but had moved too far for him to hear. Talking wasn’t quite right. Arguing was closer, her hands punctuating her words with hasty gestures toward the supplies out in the open.

He could well imagine her intent. They need shelter. Storage. And she needed approval, and they would only see useless objects. Decorations. Not at all worth the fuss she was making. How long before they would punctuate their own arguments with the end of a club? His work on the crash site slowed because he needed to be ready to intervene, to run off and help.

Her hands were on her hips. She wasn’t being respectful. Wasn’t bowing her head and addressing them from lowered eyes. Always placid and every request more a plea than a statement of need.

She was the liaison. Fierce and determined in what was necessary for her job, and perhaps there would be consequences for it. Ones they would have to face together.

But for now, he was distracted by how beautiful he found her. Sure of herself and what was needed. Commanding rather than bowing and scraping.

His boss.

His lips twitched.

Then he sobered, praying the translator chips stripped out tone, and they would not notice the difference.

Another set of blankets. They were winning, the flicker of flame dulling. Another peek toward Hana. Her shoulders, once tight and holding all the tension she felt, suddenly fell. And it was just enough to make him nervous, except she turned and he could make out her face.

Relief, then.

As she went and filled up the rolling chair with as many books as she could manage, before following a guard toward another building.

Out of sight.

Which he did not like in the least.

“You got this?” he asked the man behind him.

His answer was more grumble than word, but there was the barest affirmation and Ellion was greedy. “Good. I’ll be back.”

He was waved off with a glare, the motion punctuated by a damp blanket singing against twisted metal and tumultuous earth.

Better.

He followed in the direction Hana had gone. That he thought Hana had gone. It took him longer than he’d liked to find her. It was just another building. It served no purpose for eating or sleeping, so he’d never been introduced to it. Perhaps it was labelled on that map he’d never looked at again. Hadn’t really needed it, after all, since he had Hana to guide him. But perhaps he should have paid more attention. Committed every bit of this place to memory.

It was home now, after all. He should know it.

He caught her on the exit. She still had the roller chair in front of her, empty now. He hurried over while she watched with some trepidation.

“Did it blow up?”

Ellion shook his head. “You would have heard that.”

Hana shrugged, but nodded at the same time. “Help me move all this stuff?” she entreated. The guard trailed off, back to walk up and down the line of workers. Offering no advice, no help. Just watching. Keeping them on task if they grew too slow.

He helped her put another load into the chair and then took another in his arms. It was most of the books, but there was more that would need shelter. More she cared about. He could see it in the tight lines of her face. The set of her shoulders. She would not be easy until all of it was safe. Until there was order.

He wanted to say something to ease her tension, but he couldn’t. Everything was lacking. Placating rather than helpful. “I’m sorry,” he settled on at last.

“Me too,” she agreed, turning her head and giving him as much of a smile as she could muster. It wasn’t much, but he appreciated the effort.

They were back at the new building. This one had no key. Instead, it was some sort of mechanism, with a dial that had to be moved in a certain order to open. Fingers fit inside, but they were built for something larger.

The Narada, he realised dimly. So they could get in. Symbols rather than numbers. Their own language? He had a difficult time imagining them with books. Great scholars. But perhaps that was horrid of him. Just because they were brutish here did not mean that was the whole of their kind.

He thought of the female he’d seen, so briefly. The children. Decorated with glowing paints in definitive patterns. Artistic. Perhaps the translators stripped them of emotion after all.

The door opened and Hana gestured for him to go in first. It was dark. Too dark. And he almost immediately bumped into something as soon as she took a few far-too trusting steps inside. “Careful,” Hana urged as soon as his shin made contact.

“What is this place?” he groused, unable to rub at the sore spot without first setting down his burden. He would not have dropped them for anything, not when it would have incurred Hana’s wrath most certainly.

“Storage,” Hana answered. She opened the door further to let in as much light as possible. It wasn’t a great deal, but he could make out what had struck him. What he had struck.

Building supplies. Crates of them. Labelled carefully and stacked on top of one another. “This has just been sitting here?”

Hana rolled the chair past him and began emptying the contents into a previous stack. “Of course. Leftovers from building this place. Some extras in case things break. Piping, that sort of thing.” She turned her head. “You going to set that down? There’s a path. Promise.”

Ellion complied, but the movements were mechanical, his thoughts elsewhere. “Who built this place?”

Hana paused. It was too dim to make out her expression, but he could well imagine her confusion. “They supplied a crew for the office. Then they enlisted the first batch of volunteers to work on the rest of it.” Volunteers. She sounded like one of the grey men. Not that he would say so, but he didn’t much care for it. “Prisoners,” he corrected.

“What?”

“Perhaps they volunteered to come here. Maybe they were coerced. But that doesn’t change we’re all prisoners. Don’t know why they’re trying to forget that.”

Hana stopped her work and stood up straight. “I like to think they’re trying to give us a little bit of dignity back,” her words were strained. “That I don’t have to be a prisoner my whole life.”

She was. Would be. But this was hurting her, and that wasn’t worth belabouring the point, so he took a deep breath. Moved his books to sit beside hers. “You’re right,” he agreed, finding it was true enough not to feel like a falsehood. “Sorry.”

Hana sniffed. Wiped at her nose and her eyes before she finished with her portion. “No, I’m... you’re right of course. I just... it’s been a wretched day.”

He reached for her hand. Gave it a squeeze. “That we can agree on.”

“I felt safe there,” Hana got out, her throat too tight and her words a little too high pitched. “And now it’s...”

“We’ll fix it,” Ellion promised. “Got our supplies right here.”

She huffed out a breath, but it caught and showed just how close she was to crying in earnest. “Were you a carpenter in a past life?”

Ellion shrugged even though she wouldn’t see it. Stood. Brought her to him, just for a moment. “Maybe. You don’t know I wasn’t.”

He felt her shoulders move, and he hoped it was a hint of laughter rather than the beginnings of her tears. There was more work to do. More to save.

But this mattered, too.

But not more. He knew that as she pulled back from him with a sheepish sort of smile. “Will you help me with the rest?”

He couldn’t help the impulse to lean down. To press a kiss to the top of her head. Just the one. Because there was a crisis and he could only be so selfish.

“Of course.”

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They did not sleep for a very long time. The guards seemed to have grasped at last the importance of the work, so it was their determination that none were going to bed until the hole in the wall was covered.

Which might have been easily done with so many hands between them all, but the darkness made it nearly impossible. The moon was new, and the stars seemed covered by a layer of cloud which made the dim an inky sort of oppression. They were ordered back to storage to pull out work lights.

Which were solar powered. And stored in a building. So other than the briefest flicker as they depleted what little remained of their remaining life, they were wheeled back into storage.

The Narada were growing increasingly frustrated by the endeavour. They could see just fine, and they held only so much patience for the prisoners’ deficiencies.

They only offered so much direction for supplies in the storage room itself, reminding often this was beyond the scope of their responsibilities. But that the hole must be filled and if everyone wished to remain awake and stare at it until the suns rose, that was their prerogative. They were generous and would allow an additional hour before everyone was shuffled to their usual work details.

Hana was the one to find it. A tarp of some sort, but Ellion suspected it was much the same as the membrane covering the cots in the med bay.

It moulded all right. Over whatever it was draped over. Except they needed it to cover a vertical hole, which meant it took another hour to find something to attach it with.

When at last the supplies were uncovered, a few men had twined sooty blankets wherever they could find a splinter to hang them on. Those were taken down with sheepish thanks from Hana, and they worked to apply the membrane across the opening.

Then let a guard inspect it, who likely had never been involved in anything but earth and stone for a structure, but who announced they could return to their beds. After they washed, because they were blackened in places. Those without blankets could make a petition in the morning for one to be returned. Liars would receive a broken arm.

Ellion wasn’t certain that part translated properly. Or if it was meant as a mumbled word beneath the breath as a release of frustration. But enough heard, and they gave nervous looks at one another before they wandered off to wash.

Ellion and Hana did the same, returning to her dormitory. Their dormitory. They’d only got his things tucked away in her chest before the chaos began, and there was more he intended to do before they slept.

“Is this assigned to anybody?” Ellion clarified of the bed beside hers. He imagined some soul longing for it in the tunnels, only to find it overtaken when at last they were released.

Hana shook her head, looking a little rueful. “Not for six down. Same as the mess hall, really. Got a nice buffer around me.” She demonstrated, trying to make it sound like it was a good thing, but failing miserably.

Ellion hummed. “Too bad I didn’t know to respect the buffer.”

That earned a dim smile, which was better. “You really going to sleep over here?” she asked. Her fingers plucked at the edge of the new cupboard, eyeing it rather than him.

“Miss me, will you?”

“I don’t know about that,” she tried. Mostly succeeded in sounding as if she meant it. “A whole cot to myself. No guilt when you can’t get comfortable and sleep on the floor instead. Which I refuse to take as an insult, by the way. That the floor could be more comfortable than being crushed into a bed with me.”

Ellion took a step closer. “I do that so you can sleep,” he explained, not realising it was needed. “You get restless, and you will not ask for me to go, so I make it so you don’t have to.”

She swallowed. “Oh.” He watched her for a moment longer. “Help me with this.” He went to the far end of the cupboard and explained his intention. She looked dubious at first, complaining of the noise because it was heavy and might scrape, then about how the guards would need to be able to inspect.

To which Ellion huffed. Paused in his work. “Would you trust me? Please?”

She halted her arguments.

Helped guide the cupboard away from its assigned position.

Brought it to the foot of hers. Foot to foot. Sealing in the window, and them along with it when they were on the other side.

He left just a slit between. He didn’t much care for the idea that other eyes could peep in other than just the guards, but it was better than the altercation that would follow when they were sealed in fully.

And any that wanted to get in would have to make quite a bit of noise to do it, and that’s what he needed.

A safe place to be with her. And sleep. Until he could work out a more permanent arrangement.

She sat down on her bed, looking about. “Well?” Ellion asked. “What do you think?”

He kept his voice low, because while it felt different—private. Like a proper room. Small, a compartment more than a true bedroom. There weren’t walls and doors between them and the rest.

He was testing the limits of what was allowed. What they could get away with. But he suspected that was needed. Perhaps even wanted. To test what prisoners would do. How long they would need to be told to work. Ordered into making a meaningful contribution.

How long it would take before they might do something for themselves? Just because they wanted to eat. Wanted others to get to do that too. To split into couples. The kind that wanted privacy. Homes of their own.

At the moment, he could only offer two cupboards and a semblance of privacy. But that did not mean there couldn’t be more.

There were supplies. Not just for patching up holes, as the others seemed to think. The warehouse was large.

They wanted to see who would think to build something for their own sakes.

And if he was wrong, the consequences would be his. But he thought the risk worth taking.

He just wasn’t certain Hana would agree.

“This is nice,” Hana observed, letting her feet sway back and forth. There was almost something shy in her smile, the way she ducked her head to look at him. Did she think he did this so he might woo her into sharing her bed for more than a cuddle and a few kisses?

Desire stirred. So muted it was almost an insult. But a warm flush all the same, of fondness and yes, the want he’d known for almost the entirety of their acquaintance. “It is,” Ellion agreed. It would be nicer still if they could move the second cupboard to meet the first, their cots pushed together until they were almost joined. But that would mean no window, and no space to stand or move about, and he wasn’t certain he could tolerate such confines, even for something so appealing as a double bed.

“Others will be jealous,” she whispered, smoothing her hands over the bedding. “No blankets. No private rooms.”

Ellion moved toward her. He would sink into his bed soon enough, but only after he made sure she was all right. There’d been too little time to talk, and while he wasn’t at his prime—too muzzy-headed to be sure he could navigate anything difficult, he at least had to try. He sat down beside her, and was rewarded with her head coming to rest against his shoulder. “Their blankets will be washed. And for any that can’t be salvaged, we’ll find extra.” He turned his head to place a kiss to the top of her head, and she sighed. A sweet sound, one he’d tuck away as one of his favourites. “And if they want to move their beds about, who is stopping them?”

The night air was crisp and welcome now they were tucked away as they were. He’d been too focused on the work to notice it before, but it was pleasant. A sharp alternative to an over-long day. Peaceful.

“You’re trouble,” Hana chided, but there was no actual weight to it.

“I’ve got plans,” he corrected. “Ones that include you. And certainly don’t include us getting murdered in our beds. Or shipped off to the tunnels. So I’ll be careful with them, I promise you.”

There had been other promises between them. Had it been only that morning? Surely it was a lifetime ago. “And will I be consulted in those plans?” Hana asked, sounding slightly perturbed at the prospect of being otherwise.

He brought their hands together. Picked hers up and brought it to his lips to place a kiss upon the back of it. “Yes, boss,” he murmured. Just because it rankled her. Make her nudge him with her shoulder, and he would laugh, and then she would huff before easing against him more fully when he brought his arms about her to hold her close. Whisper it again into her ear and feel her shiver because she liked when he spoke low. When it was private and solely hers.

“I mean to have you,” he added, and there was that flare of interest. A little more fervent than it had been before. “Do you mean to have me?”

She swallowed, and when she turned her head to meet his eye, there was no mistaking the desire there. And the uncertainty as well. “Now?” she asked, and it wasn’t a squeak. It wasn’t. Because she would clobber him if he thought so.

But it was enough for him to chuckle, to shake his head and kiss her cheek because she was nervous and he wouldn’t have that. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted. “But I’ll give it a go if you want to.”

Her relief should have been insulting, but it couldn’t be. Not when she threw her arms about his neck and hugged him close. “I want to sleep for days.”

He hummed, revelling in the feel of her. “I’ll put a sign on my bed. I’m sure everyone will be more than happy to accommodate us.”

It was her turn to laugh, shaking her head and pushing him away from her. “No offer to share?” he asked, obliging her and moving to his own cot.

She leaned back, making a great show of taking up every available bit of her bed. Which naturally showed off the length of her legs, the curve of her breast when her back arched, and that really wasn’t fair when they were both intent on sleep rather than other, very necessary, explorations. “All to myself,” she declared. Cast him a teasing look that was too worried about the edges. Worried for him. That he would doubt his welcome.

So he made a great show of his own, although the length of the bed made him have to curl slightly rather than allow her to see his proportions at their best. “Do you think one of those grey men ever laid on one of these? A whole host of them. Picked out just the right kind to send. Maybe there was a committee about it. Which ones were just soft enough to be seen as proper care, but hard enough to remind us of our place?”

Hana snorted. “Go to sleep,” she ordered.

“Yes, boss.”

Which really wasn’t fair, because she was the one to break the silence. When his thoughts were muzzy and his eyes heavy, so all he could really do was close them.

“I was scared today,” she admitted into the dark.

His eyes opened. “I hated having you in there without me. Not knowing what was happening.”

It wasn’t possible to know for certain she was smiling, but he did. “You just like being nosey and they thwarted you.”

He snorted. Tucked his blanket up higher toward his chin. “That must have been it. Not that I was afraid you’d be executed or anything.”

That earned a muffled sort of laugh from her. She was burying herself in her covers, and he wouldn’t feel guilty for those that went without for a night. It was the window, that was all, making it so cold. They could close it, but they wouldn’t. Fresh air was good for sleep, or so Hana said.

“Go to sleep, Hana,” Ellion was the one to urge. “Lots to do tomorrow.”

She groaned. “That’s not what you say to a person to get them to sleep easy.”’

He shifted, rolling onto his side and trying to get a look at her. She’d done the same. And they exchanged sheepish smiles in the moonlight. “Oh really? And what are you supposed to say? I seem to have forgotten.”

He didn’t say it looking for pity. Which was good, because she gave none. “No excuse,” she declared. “Now I’ll be making lists all night of what needs doing.”

He sighed deeply. Most performative, and not at all because he felt the edges of soreness in some of his muscles. Up he got. Back over to her. Where he could kneel beside the bed and lean in close. Hear her swallow. Her breath to catch. Because she’d wonder what he was about. Wonder at his intentions. Perhaps a little nervous. Or maybe filling with anticipation.

He leaned in closer still, angling just so. Letting his lips skim across her cheekbone. The ridges of her nose. Which seemed to tickle because she gave a twitter of something near to laughter, and it made him smile. Back down the other side. Her jaw.

Then her lips.

Where he hovered. Considering. “I could kiss you,” he murmured. “Then down your throat. To that crease between your breasts that peeks at me now and then when you’re not careful with your laces. And I have to pretend not to notice, even as it drives me mad.”

Her breath caught, and a hand curled about the bedding. The other found his arm, squeezing tightly. “Maybe even further still, although this bed is a bit short for that.” Not the right thing to say, but she did not seem to mind. “Drive every thought from your head but me and my kisses.”

He placed a kiss to her chin instead, and her breath wavered. “You’re awfully sure of yourself,” she countered. “You were tired. I’m tired.”

He hummed in agreement. “You said you would not sleep,” he reminded her. “And I’ll hear you thinking. This seems the superior alternative.”

He wasn’t aware of her moving, which made it almost startling when her hand came to tangle in his hair that he really must see about trimming. When she pulled him down and he assumed she meant their lips to meet, but the angle wasn’t quite right and it took a bit to sort it out. Delicious bits, even in the wrongness of it. Because he could revel in her enthusiasm. That she wanted him. It was easier to offer something like kisses. Because his exhaustion was bone deep. He didn’t know if he could be any good for her if they tried for more. But it felt good to tease. To dangle a delight they hadn’t shared, but wanted to. Would find the time, the space.

Because they were creative.

She held him to her for longer than he expected. Until her kisses grew less persistent. More lazy. When her hand slackened, and he was going to tease her mercilessly in the morning if she fell asleep when he kissed her.

But she was blinking at him when he pulled back enough to look at her. A soft smile on her lips as she touched her thumb to the corner of his mouth. It broadened further when he turned his head to place a kiss upon the pad. “I’m going to sleep,” she’s tried again. “And so are you.”

He shook his head at her. “Always bossing me about.”

She’s leaned forward. Placed one more to his lips. “That’s me.”

And he went back to his own bed, his body thrumming but strangely contented. To have been close, if just for a moment. To fill his mind with her rather than the rest of it.

He tried to stay awake just in case she needed more distraction after all, but he could only last so long.

They were tucked away. As safe as he could make them for the moment.

And it was enough.

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