<On our way back now. Be good to get out of this rain.>
Keelin jerked at Tris’ voice, but Ryann knew her smile was genuine now.
<Brice okay too?>
<He’s fine.>
<You hear me, Brice? Give Tris a nod if you can. Tris, he nodding?>
<Don’t know. I’m trying to figure out our path. We’ve had to take a detour.>
And only now did Ryann hear the hesitation, and the panic simmering beneath Tris’ words.
<Problems?> she sussed, dreading the response.
<Path blocked. I’ve got another route, though. Be back before you know it. You got through to Haven?>
That sounded like he was sure of himself, but Ryann knew that was a mask. But she followed where he led the conversation. <We got through. We’re in the system.>
<In the system,> Tris sussed dismissively. <Suppose that’s good. See you in a bit.> And Tris cut communication.
Keelin looked worried. “You think Brice is okay?”
“He’ll be fine.”
Ryann cringed inside as she said those words. And it hurt even more when Keelin nodded in agreement. It was what Keelin wanted to hear, but that didn’t excuse the…not lie, but the way Ryann skirted round what she really thought.
And what was that? Logically, she knew that Tris was still walking, and he’d said he knew a way back. Ryann had no reason to believe Brice was not with him. They were surrounded by light. They should be fine.
Yet Ryann was filled with dread. A part of her never expected to see them again. Hell, a part of her never expected to see Haven again.
But she couldn’t admit that to Keelin. The girl would fall apart.
<Ryann, you there?>
The voice startled Ryann, and at first she thought it was Tris again. But this voice was female. It was deep, and sure of itself. Of course she recognised it.
<I’m here, Arela. Didn’t expect you to call.> Ryann knew that wasn’t formal enough, and that this wasn’t the correct protocol for a communication from Haven’s chief, but at the moment she didn’t care. Besides, she’d always thought of Arela as a kind of friend, once you got through the layers of bureaucracy.
But there were protocols and systems, and Arela had to follow them closer than most. Calling Ryann up like this was…not how things were done.
<Always look out for my people. You know that. Especially ones with a problem.>
<A problem. That’s putting it lightly.> Ryann felt the signal Arela was using. It was tight, and she knew the chief was alone. Maybe she wasn’t even in her office, but was calling from her quarters.
<So I understand. Read your report—well, scanned most of it. We’ve got medics preparing for Cathal, and we’re moving as fast as we can.> She paused. <But these creatures…I’m intrigued.>
That was an odd choice of words, and Ryann felt her skin chill as blood rushed to her brain. But before she could dwell on it, Arela was talking again.
<Tell me, Ryann, what do they feel like when you sense them?>
That was incredibly blunt. Arela kept her tone light, but a question like that spoke of seriousness. Ryann took a moment of contemplation before responding. <I’m not sure I can put it in words. They move, and they have a hint of life, but at the same time they feel empty.>
<Like tech?>
<I can’t feel tech,> she sussed, choosing her words with care. Arela was fishing for something.
<But you reach out to others’ lattices. That’s tech, surely.>
Ryann could have explained how tech was a conduit for sensations. A lattice was a delivery system, not a thing in itself. And it worked so intimately with the body that it was near impossible to tell where the biological ended and the artificial began.
She could have explained all of this, but Arela had trained as a tracker. She understood this already.
<What are you getting at, Arela? What can you tell me?>
<Just gathering data. There’s only so much in a report.>
That might have been a dig. Of course reports only gave the hard facts. Ryann was very careful with her words. But Arela could read between the lines.
And Ryann could do the same. <What can you tell me, Arela?>
Arela didn’t respond straight away, and for a moment Ryann feared she had been too blunt. Her nerves were rising. She needed to stay calm. She needed to be friendly, not confrontational.
But Arela was still there. <Officially, we know nothing of those creatures, Ryann,> she eventually sussed, and her voice was measured and strong. <There are no records in Haven’s data-banks.>
Ryann heard what Arela wasn’t saying all too clearly. <But unofficially?>
Arela paused again, then sussed, <You understand this conversation isn’t happening. These words never passed between us. Clear?>
<Clear.>
<I hear any indications to the contrary, I will deny them most strongly. And you know that evidence will not be forthcoming.>
Ryann understood perfectly, although the threat hurt on a personal level. Arela had total access to Haven’s data banks, including what every individual stored through their lattice. If Ryann had been recording this conversation, Arela could wipe the recording and amend any affected records.
But she must know that Ryann would not put her in such a position. Her distrust could not be aimed at Ryann, but at anyone else who might be listening in, if that were even possible.
It wasn’t like Arela to be paranoid. Not without good reason.
<I understand,> she said.
<I know.> Arela’s tone softened a fraction, and Ryann could picture her smiling. <And I do trust you, Ryann. I wouldn’t be this frank if I didn’t.> That sounded almost like an apology.
There was a pause—Ryann could think of no response—and then Arela continued. <I’m in an interesting position, Ryann. I have access to deeper records than most, but I also hear things. Things that the data cannot back up. I hear rumours, and half-truths, and downright lies. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell these apart. And sometimes, I would prefer it if the truths were the lies.>
<I understand.> And Ryann also saw how Arela was building to something.
<Kaiahive’s a gargantuan company. You know this. The project we’re
