“We need something else,” Ryann said, and she pointed to the ceiling. Her face was serious, even though she’d been laughing earlier too. “Those things can jump.”
“On it,” said Keelin, picking up another torch and the tape. “Brice, turn round.”
He did so, and felt her taping the third torch to his back. A couple of times it rapped against the back of his head, but Keelin move it down and to his right, and when she thumbed the controls and stepped back, the ceiling above glowed even brighter than it had done before.
“Hey, if I stand like this on the landing pad, I can guide the rescue Proteus in!”
But that thought didn’t make him feel any better, and it did not receive the laughter he expected.
“First things first, Brice,” said Ryann. “Contact Haven, then worry about rescue.”
Keelin strapped a third torch to Tris’ back, and now the man did not look ridiculous so much as wrong. He was a dark centre surrounded by light, and he looked alone, just like Brice felt. Tris had said he wasn’t dark now, but Brice was. He was an empty void in a sea of brilliance.
Ryann held up a couple of boxes; a booster and a relay. She handed them to Tris, who took them as if she were bestowing a great and terrible gift.
“Set the system up on the roof first,” she said. “Let’s make sure this works.”
Keelin held out a couple of torches. “One to aim at any of those things who get too inquisitive, the other to protect the system,” she said.
“I’ll need tape, too.”
She reached for the roll. Brice shuffled both torches into one hand then held out his other hand, palm up. Keelin looked at the roll of tape, then slotted it over Brice’s fingers and pushed it up his wrist.
“Don’t let it fall,” she said with a smile. Her hand brushed his, and he wanted to grab it. But she was already too far away.
“Ready?” Ryann stood by the rear door. Her face was blank, and she held herself rigid. He felt himself shake when he nodded. The light by his side wobbled as Tris nodded too.
Ryann opened the door.
The laughter already felt out of place to Ryann. The last few minutes seemed dream-like, with Tris and Brice joking and working together. It should have filled her with confidence, but instead it left a crack for the doubts to creep in. Not doubts over the decision to do this—with cold logic, she knew it made sense—but she feared the plan would fail. There were too many unknowns.
When Brice reached the top of the ladder and opened the hatch, rain speckled her face. That, she had to admit, felt good. But she couldn’t look up, not without calling up some pretty limiting filters. The light Brice and Tris gave off was too strong.
And that was their only protection. She struggled to believe she was letting them go through with this.
“Storm’s worse,” Brice said.
“Then we do this quickly,” Tris said. “Check it works.”
Brice barked a laugh. “Not exactly a dry run, though.”
Then Brice was through the hatch, and Tris followed. Ryann watched the yellow light swirl, and more rain came down.
<Keep me informed, Tris.>
There was no response for a moment, and Ryann was tempted to call out again, or climb up. Her hand rested on one of the metal rungs.
<There’s loads of them!>
Ryann pushed the terror down, redirecting adrenaline.
<Close?>
<In the trees. But they’re hiding from the light. Brice was right.>
<Then get the job done. Brice circling you?>
<Yeah. Goddamn rain, though!>
<It’s only water. There was more of it back in the river.>
That seemed so long ago now. Was it really only a couple of hours?
She heard clicks and thuds over the storm, and pushed into Tris’ lattice. His adrenaline pumped, and his heart was loud and strong, if a touch too fast.
<System in place. Switching it on.> Ryann sensed the power running through the relay. <You got that?>
<Perfect> she sussed. <Sending message now> She tapped into the emergency channel, pushing her signal as identification. She wanted to scream for help, but calmed herself, and stuck to protocol. <Harris reporting for Lasko. Distress, level one. Respond on receipt, all parties.>
She pulled up stats, and the data showed the message being sent, broad, across the whole spectrum. She received a ping, but that was from the relay itself, a machine acknowledgement only.
Of course there was no response from Haven. This relay didn’t have the power for that. But it would push her message as soon as that second relay was in place.
<Coming back down.>
The rain and the noise of the storm both cut off when Brice sealed the hatch. Light flooded the chamber, and water dripped from their clothes.
Keelin was by Cathal’s side when they entered the main room. She looked up, but didn’t move. It was interesting how she kept one hand under the blanket, resting on his chest.
But if it helped keep the girl calm, Ryann wouldn’t interfere.
“Any problems?” she said to the lads.
“Relay seems to be working fine.”
“You strapped a torch to it?”
“Of course,” said Brice, lifting his arm, the one that still had the reel of tape round his wrist. “This stuff works well.”
“Just hope the light keeps those things away,” Tris said, then looked sheepish. Ryann understood—while they were all thinking the same thing, speaking it made the doubts real.
“It will,” she said with all the confidence she could muster. “And it will work at the landing pad. You need to get the system ready, Tris?”
He nodded. “Sure.” Then he turned to Brice. “I’ll put it in two packs. Share the load.”
“I’ll carry it all if you want.”
“No. We do this together.”
They turned to the storage units, and Ryann stepped across to Keelin.
<How is he?> she sussed privately.
The pilot’s expression told Ryann more than her words. <Not good, I think. His skin feels wrong.>
<I’ll take a look.>
Keelin withdrew her hand, and shuffled to one side. Ryann
