A blinding white light engulfed everything, flaring up with a sharp pain that remained when the darkness engulfed it.
“What the hell have you done this time, Brice?” Tris sounded angry. But Brice couldn’t see him. And he sounded muffled, like he was too far away.
There were other sounds now—tapping maybe, and some muttering. Brice concentrated, and his ears popped, like he was coming out of water. The tapping was sharper, and close by. And when Tris spoke, his voice was clear.
“This thing’s done for. I can reach through to the power circuits, but there’s nothing to work with. Looks like our resident screw-up did it again.”
“Then find a solution,” Ryann said, but she sounded too far away.
Something pushed hard against the sole of Brice’s left boot. “Found some rubbish. Think we should throw it out?” The pressure on his boot increased.
He might not be able to see, but at least he could feel.
Brice focused on that sensation, and he pictured where Tris must be standing. With one foot pushing his own, he must have his other one set back to keep his balance.
With a grunt, Brice kicked out, hard. His boot connected, and Tris yelled. Then something slammed into Brice’s shin, and he winced at the pain. But he didn’t cry out.
He willed his lattice to compensate, but it did nothing. There were no updates on damage done, no sensation of internal movement.
“You always attack people when they’re down?” he said, shuffling back until he felt the wall, then pushing up it until he was sitting. He wasn’t sure if he could stand, not yet. His head swam, and he felt nauseous.
“You think you deserve anything better? Bloody screw-up.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Brice felt his chest rise and fall. He couldn’t sense his lungs like he normally could, but he knew they were working. Just like he knew his heart was pumping blood, and his muscles were ready.
“Come on! You started all this when you fired at that warth. You’re the reason we had to climb the cliff. If you hadn’t been so bloody stupid, we’d never have come across that…that thing. And we’d never be in this mess. It’s all your fault!”
“Yeah, like I was going to ignore a charging warth. I probably saved your life back there. Beginning to regret it now, though.”
“They weren’t a threat.”
“No?”
“No. You made them dangerous. You’re dangerous. And now…”
The next kick struck Brice’s thigh, and instinctively he lashed out with an arm. It hit something solid, and he winced. He swallowed, his mouth dry now.
Tris laughed. “Thought you were good at fighting. Thought that was your speciality. No? Looks like you really are useless. Don’t know why the hell you’re with us anyway.”
Brice pushed his back against the wall and bent his legs, bringing his feet underneath his body. The wall was cool against his hands, and he took a long breath in preparation.
“Yeah, so useless I carried Cathal the whole way here.” He pushed with his legs and started to rise. “So useless I rigged the rope to get him down.” The burn in his thighs lessened as his legs straightened and he stood tall. He kept his hands flat on the wall. “What the hell have you done?”
“Both of you, stop!” Keelin shouted. Brice had no idea when she’d come back from the heads. “We’ve got more important things to deal with.”
“Like sorting out the mess this waste of space put us in.”
Tris’ voice was closer, almost in his face, and with a grunt Brice launched himself from the wall, pushing the nausea down as he brought his fists up. There was no finesse in the move, and he had nothing to aim at but a voice.
It was all he needed. His body followed his fists, and he felt contact as Tris cried out. Then they both fell—Brice forwards, Tris backwards. The world spun. The impact slammed through Brice, and his head hit something hard. Probably the floor.
Then there were hands clamped on his shoulders, pulling him back. He tried to stand, but the movement was too sudden. Fingers dug hard, and where they bit into his bruise from earlier a shard of pain screamed through his mind.
He rolled over and sat up. The hands still held him.
“Both of you need to stop.” Keelin’s voice was practically in his ear. He could feel her hair on his cheek.
“Hold him like that, and I can get a perfect shot in.”
“Yeah, because you can’t cope with a moving target.”
“Stop!”
Brice jerked his head to one side as Ryann’s voice ricocheted round the room. She said that single word loudly, and her voice was strong. But there was an edge to it, high-pitched, where it almost cracked.
Almost, but she kept it together.
“You two need to sort yourselves out, but not like this.” Her words were quieter now, and she sounded tired, or maybe weary. “We work together. We’re a crew. A team.”
Brice opened his mouth, but caught himself in time. Saying ‘he started it’ probably wouldn’t be the smart thing to do.
“Fine,” Tris said, spitting the word out. “But I don’t want anything to do with him unless I have to.”
“Works for me too.” Brice tried to keep his voice as civil as possible.
“Tris,” Ryann said, and only now did Brice realise she wasn’t sussing, but using her voice. “Any chance of getting power sorted?”
“Not likely. He wrecked it, the….”
“Enough!” She was close. Brice wondered if Ryann was holding Tris back, just as Keelin still had her hands on his shoulders. “Whatever happened, we need power. I need to do what I can for Cathal, and I’d appreciate better light.”
“Torches?” Brice said. “Tris found them earlier.” He said that through his teeth. It hurt to give the waste of space credit for anything.
“That’ll work. Bring one over, Tris. You can
