‘You mean I’m the freak with special clearance at the gate.’ Kira brandished her metal prosthetic, waving her fingers in Blake’s face. She was not incorrect. Blake had taken into account that the extraterrestrial properties of Kira’s limb meant the Lucentshield surrounding the Facility required momentary shut-off at any entranceway Kira used, allowing her entry and exit without setting off alarms. A force field for all intents and purposes, the Lucentshield was originally designed to conceal the energy readings emanating from the Waters.
Frowning, Blake pushed her sister’s hand away. ‘That is part of it, yes. But you also understand human behaviour –’
‘In a way that you don’t.’
Blake ground her teeth, refusing to be baited. There wasn’t time for an argument. If she was to secure Kira’s assistance in removing Azrael from the Facility, the personal slights her sister was so fond of must be allowed to slide. Blake removed a device from her pocket: a wristband, finger-width wide, with several coloured panels on its matte silver surface. ‘Azrael is mildly sedated and will remain that way as a precaution. But if required, this will allow you to completely incapacitate him.’
The inhibitor bracelet dangled from Blake’s fingers. Kira hauled herself up onto the kitchen bench, bare feet swinging against the cupboard doors. ‘I know this isn’t a joke, ’cause you are physically incapable of humour,’ Kira said. ‘But, B, what the hell is going on?’
Blake rubbed at a damp fleck of alcohol on her chin, staring down at a crack in the tiled floor. The ultimate question. One she’d blinded herself to for far too long. ‘I need him out there for just a couple of hours. Enough time to assess reactions, both from Azrael and from the people he interacts with. The data will be useful when completing the others.’
The lie fell with greater ease than she’d anticipated. Perhaps because its roots were in truth. But she did not want to merely observe Azrael. She wanted to conceal him. The heightened sense of urgency, the near-manic energy that had gripped Captain Nex and the Syranians the past couple of days, and Tamas’s sudden desire to distance himself from her, had dissolved Blake’s focus on the technology. On the marvel of creation.
As the side-effects of the Waters running through her body heightened, so did her paranoia. The terrible grip of doubt was suffocating.
‘Others?’ Kira frowned. ‘You’re building more robo-boys?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why? Are they building an army down there? Are Captain Asshat and his merry band about to take over the world?’ Kira smirked, setting off a dimple high in her left cheek.
Until that moment Blake had been satisfied with her ready answers, her self-assured half truths. Yet now the single word required to answer stuck to the back of her throat.
‘No.’ Blake forced it free, but her uncertainty cracked her voice. Four hunters, searching for a sole target. That was what Tamas had told her. In the beginning. When she cared little for whatever games the aliens wished to play. In a world populated with billions, what were four hunters and one singular goal?
Kira was silent, her focus on the inhibitor bracelet. She lifted it from where it swayed on Blake’s fingertips and slipped it over her wrist.
‘Are they done?’ An uneasy note clung to her words.
Blake watched her sister. ‘Done?’
‘Going? Adios? Sayonara, goodbye. Leaving.’
‘Why are you raising your voice?’
‘Why aren’t you answering the fucking question. Are the aliens leaving?’
‘No. Why would that –’ Blake’s confusion made her pause. Then all at once it dawned on her. Eron. ‘No. They are not leaving.’
Rossiter had insisted Kira still nursed an emotional connection to the disgraced alien, despite the chaos the interlude had caused and Kira’s flippant dismissal of events. Blake had witnessed a hint of it herself when she took them both to see Azrael, but she did not realise quite how deep the connection ran until now. ‘Kira, we do not have time to further this discussion. Gwen is waiting. You need to meet her, now. And this must stay classified.’
She grasped Azrael’s shoulder, intending to assist him to his feet, but the gallu jerked at her touch. Blake released her hold.
‘I’ve got him,’ Kira said. ‘Just calm your tits. I can’t go out on your stupid mission looking like this.’
She shrugged off her nightshirt, standing bare-breasted while choosing a shirt from a pile of laundered clothes sitting in a basket on the far side of the dining table. A marking between her small breasts caught Blake’s eye.
‘When did you get that?’ The sight of the surgical wound gave Blake the usual turn of stomach, but the artwork that had been worked over it was actually quite beautiful: an intricate kaleidoscope of blue butterflies, running half the length of her considerable scar.
‘It’s called a tat, Grandma B. And I got it ages ago.’ Kira pulled on a bra, then a long-sleeved black top, covering the tattoo. ‘Blame Eron. He was being a pussy and wouldn’t get one. So I went first.’
She slid a white skull-print cardigan over the shirt.
‘The Syranian got a tattoo?’ Blake’s concern eased. Kira may be careless, and irresponsible, but her ability to influence those around her was unsurpassed. And Eron had come to no harm in her care. Had remained undiscovered despite both Kira’s and his own severe intoxication.
‘He did. A dog’s paw.’ Kira zipped up a pair of black leather pants and tugged on sneakers. A skull-print pattern adorned the well-worn shoes as well. Rossiter, noting Kira’s preoccupation with skulls, had purchased them on Blake’s behalf when her work prevented her from allocating time to birthdays. ‘So where am I supposed to go with Mr Chatty?’
‘The Wheel and Barrow. It is quiet on a Tuesday evening, I believe. Gwen is waiting with a vehicle at the East Exit.
