He raised his eyebrows at that.
“Just a precaution. But seal everything tight.”
“Watertight.”
“Exactly. You ready for this?” Keeping things vague let his mind go where it needed.
“Course. Just like training, right?”
Brice opened a unit and pulled out a pack without looking. Exactly like training, Ryann thought. Brice emptied the contents, checking. She imagined that, like her, he ran through a list in his mind—micro-rope, emergency aid kit, sleepsac, water bottle, and so on.
It was honest work, and it diverted his mind. Now might be a good time to delve into the things that were troubling her.
“You mentioned interference?” She pulled out a second pack, mirroring Brice’s actions.
He shrugged. “I sussed about the breach, but got no response. I could hear you—all of you—but it was like you couldn’t hear me.”
He was tightening straps on the pack, from bottom to top. Ryann did the same, without consciously glancing at either her pack or his.
“Can you hear them now?” she asked.
Brice nodded.
“Anything interesting?” She needed to know he wasn’t bluffing.
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t call it interesting. Keelin and Tris are talking through the procedure for flooding the Proteus, and Cathal is interrupting.”
Interrupting. That was an interesting choice of word. Listening in herself, Ryann knew he was guiding them, using questions to force them to consider other factors. Interrupting suggested interference, not assistance.
She’d have to monitor Brice’s attitude towards Cathal.
<Shouldn’t be long with the packs,> she sussed, sending wide. “You catch that?” she asked Brice.
“Loud and clear.” He put one pack aside and moved on to the next. Ryann did the same.
Then she thought of his pause earlier, and focused on Cathal alone. <The kids behaving up there?>
<Playing nicely.> Cathal kept his response tight.
“Hear anything else?” she asked Brice, keeping her voice nonchalant.
His brow furrowed, and his throat bobbed. “Just Keelin going on about pressure. Think that’s what it is.” He shrugged. “Never was good at that stuff. But she doesn’t sound bothered, so that’s a good sign, right?”
Ryann smiled. “Must be.”
And he’d given too much away. The levity in his voice was forced. He’d hesitated a fraction too long, and she’d noticed his body twitch. And that meant…
She wasn’t sure what it meant. She needed more data.
“Ask Cathal something, Brice. Anything at all.”
He shrugged again, still tugging at webbing on the pack, feigning apathy. His brow furrowed. He glanced at her, and when she didn’t respond—when she forced her expression to remain passive—he looked away, moving on to the last pack. Ryann grabbed the other four, placing them by the open door.
“Suspected as much,” she said, quietly, as if talking to herself. When he turned, she paused, with one eyebrow raised, as if to say ‘what?’ He didn’t speak, and before his slightly confused expression dissolved into resentment—as it surely must if he believed her to be holding out on him—she spoke, louder. “Tell me, what were you doing when the lightning struck?”
His hands stopped moving over the pack, and his eyes looked up. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, biting gently. Ryann wondered if he was conscious that he always did that when he was deep in thought.
“I was riding the hull.”
And that meant his lattice was joined to the external of the Proteus when the lightning struck.
“That makes sense,” she said, giving him something to hold on to. “A big enough charge could disrupt a lattice, although there’s normally protection.”
“You saying the lightning fried my lattice?”
That was putting it crudely, but it would suffice. She nodded. “It’ll need checking out, of course. I could run a quick diagnostic?” She extended her hand. Brice looked at it, hesitating. That was understandable. If she were in his position, she’d be uncomfortable about what might be uncovered, too.
And then water splashed onto her hand, the droplet exploding in a green glow. She looked up, to the hatchway, and to the dark patch around the seal. Another drop of water peeled off and fell.
<Those packs ready?> Cathal’s voice cut through her thoughts, pushing aside the background chatter from Keelin and Tris.
She looked down at the five bundles. <They are,> she sussed.
<Might want to bring them through here. Things are about to get very wet.>
Brice grabbed three of the packs, Ryann the other two. When she nodded, he made his way back through the door. But not before he saw how the drips were now a continual flow of water.
In the bridge, everyone was out of their seats, standing on the wall. They grabbed their packs and shouldered them. Nobody spoke, or—as far as Brice could tell—even looked at one another. The whole scene felt like a training session, but one that shouldn’t be happening.
He adjusted the straps on his own pack, pulling it firmly against his back. He bounced and rolled his shoulders, checking for any friction. There was none.
And that felt comforting. The pack was a part of him, just like his jacket and his boots. He mentally ran through an inventory of everything he carried, either on his back or in pockets, and each item appeared as a picture in his mind.
He didn’t know if that was in his own mind or through his lattice. Ryann’s words hovered over everything, spreading possible implications like cracks across glass. He couldn’t trust his lattice any more. His muscles would need to function on their own, with no back-up. His senses would be dulled. When adrenaline flowed—like it was doing so now—it would be uncontrolled.
Brice used to enjoy training dark. But this was no longer training.
Splashing water echoed form the cabin, like someone pouring a never-ending drink. Brice looked into the gloom, and wondered why he couldn’t see a puddle, until he realised the whole wall shimmered and rippled.
The water rose, and broke through into the bridge, tumbling around the door in its own little waterfall. Nothing as impressive as the Tumbler, but it hypnotised Brice, how the water cascaded down, individual drops consumed by the whole, all working together like some vast living organism. The amorphous beast
