CA Chapter Thirty-eight (Patreon)
Content
A gentle but urgent hand shook her awake. “Alpha,” Myles said. “Wake up.”
Groaning, she tried to push him away, burrowing back into the pile of furs that someone had put around her when she finally fell asleep after crying herself out. “Leave me alone,” she muttered, rolling over.
“I wish I could,” Myles said, tugging the fuzzy blankets away from her. “But Veralt himself just told Aspen that they’re logging you and Amy out in ten minutes, and he only gave Aspen that long because he was taking ‘Amy’ for a walk in town and said he needed time to get back to the castle. You need to read Aspen’s reports and get into the Tent before that happens.”
“What?” Alpha sat up, rubbing her eyes. “It’s not time yet. We have… a week left, don’t we?”
“Five days,” Myles confirmed. “Something’s going on, and I don’t know what it is. A helicopter landed on the helipad an hour ago, several people went inside, and I just found out that there’s a whole other area that’s protected the same way the lab is. It sits in between the lab and Carl’s private wing, and I’ve never seen anyone go in there, or I would have realized it was a blind spot, but now they have and I don’t know what’s going on.”
The AI looked frantic, so Alpha shook off the last of her lethargy, and said, “What do you think is going on?”
It was Amy who answered, and when Alpha looked over at her, the woman looked concerned, but not nearly as upset as Myles. “We think Uncle George is one of the people who came in on the helicopter. I’m not sure why Myles so worried, though. Uncle George can charm the socks off anyone, but under that sweet, friendly surface is a core of pure graphene. He can take care of himself, even when it comes to my dad.”
Alpha wouldn’t have used the word ‘sweet’ to describe either George Short or his character, Weapons Shortage, but otherwise the description sounded accurate. Except for one minor addendum. She whipped around to stare at Myles. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?” Amy asked, looking from Alpha to Myles.
“No time,” Myles insisted. Reaching up, he grabbed a sheaf of papers from thin air and stuffed them into Alpha’s hands. “Read,” he said, and turned back to Amy. Alpha began to skim through the extremely detailed reports Aspen had been filing for the past twenty-three days. She was distracted, however, as Amy slapped Myles sharply across the face and then began to cry.
“How could you do that?” Amy yelled, ignoring the tears that flowed freely down her face. “You knew he was sick, and you told him about all of this anyway? What if he gets worse? What if he dies?”
“He’s going to die anyway!” Myles shouted, then stepped back, rubbing the red brand on his cheek. He looked somber as he lowered his voice and said, “I didn’t think he’d come in person. His medical records show he’s too sick to travel. I thought he’d come meet you in game, then send in the cavalry to actually get you out.”
Amy tried to plant her fists on her hips, but the left one slid down and flopped to her side, so she reached over and grabbed it, pulling both arms across her chest instead. “You know Uncle George as well as I do, and there was exactly zero chance that he wasn’t going to come and try to talk some sense into Dad before he got anyone else involved.”
Alpha tried to focus on the words in front of her, but she couldn’t make herself read as Myles flushed darkly and said, “I hoped his doctors would force him to stay. I-” His eyes flickered to Alpha, and she remembered all the times she’d argued with Amythyst, trying to convince her to contact the only man who undoubtedly had enough power to simply swat Carl Landon down. “I thought this was best.”
Throwing the papers down, Alpha stood, stepping in between Amy and Myles. Glaring at Amy, she said, “I convinced… Myles to reach out to George. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
Tears welled up in Amy’s eyes again, and her eyes bored holes into both of them as she said, “If this goes wrong… If anything happens to Uncle George, I’ll never forgive you. Either of you. Somehow, we would have figured this out. It might have taken a long time, but we could have gotten out without help. Without risking-” Angrily, she swiped at her eyes and shook her head, glaring balefully over Alpha’s shoulder at Myles.
“That’s all right,” Myles said, voice strangely monotone. “You can hate me if you want to. But I can’t change what’s done, and if it gets you out, I wouldn’t if I could. Now,” he reached around Alpha, and the pages of Aspen’s reports appeared in his hand again. “Read. And, Alpha,” he lowered his voice so only she could hear him, “Quinn opened your pod. Twice. I flushed the reservoirs afterward, but some of whatever he put in there may have gotten through before it was done.”
The papers crumpled in her fingers as she nodded jerkily. “Okay.” She turned her head and looked up at him, and his face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin. Neither one of them were supposed to need to breathe, and yet they found themselves doing so, over and over again, driven by something stronger than logic.
Numbers flickered at the edge of her vision, counting down to when the external logout would force her to leave, and she leaned forward, so slowly he could easily have moved away if he’d wanted to, and she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. Barely touching, less than the flutter of a butterfly wing, driven by a feeling that if she didn’t seize this moment, she might never get another chance. It wasn’t logical, but her life had defied logic since the moment Amy’s doppelganger had thrust a knife into her heart.
“Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he could feel her breath the same way she had his. “See you soon.”
External Logout initiated.
4
3…
She knelt and lunged into the Tent, feeling Amy close on her heels. Darkness fell.
(===||:::::::::::::::>
She woke coughing and spluttering, and reached up to yank the mask from her face as she began to retch helplessly. Bile and bluish biogel splattered onto her legs and chest as she sat up, scraping the goo away from her face.
A soft towel rubbed her face clear even as an emesis basin was shoved into her hands. She clutched it as her stomach spasmed again, though there wasn’t much left to throw up.
“There you go,” LeeAn said, wiping Ava’s ears clear so the sounds of the room leapt into sharp focus. Ava looked around. The room was bustling, and several people were leaning over Amy’s pod, holding towels and various devices that would be used to clear her mouth and nose. LeeAn turned her head, clicking her tongue softly as she saw what Ava was looking at.
“They brought you out too fast,” the older woman said, leaning in to offer Ava a hand. As she helped Ava climb out of the slippery pod, she murmured, “They’re taking their time with Amy, though. Too slow, almost.” A puzzled frown crossed her lips so briefly Ava thought she might have imagined it.
As Ava’s feet settled onto the slightly textured floor, she felt the world spin around her and swayed. Her damp hand slid off the side of the pod when she reached out to catch herself, and she would have fallen if LeeAn hadn’t noticed and slid a shoulder under Ava’s arm with practiced ease.
“All right,” LeeAn said, brown eyes warm with concern as they met Ava’s. “You shouldn’t be this bad.” Quickly, she placed Ava’s hands back on the lip of the pod and stepped out of the room, returning almost immediately with a wheelchair. She held up a hand as Ava began to protest.
“You’re going to sit your pockets down in this chair,” the nurse said, firmly. “Or I’m going to put them there for you. We don’t need you passing out or falling and breaking something.” She pushed the chair up behind Ava, whose legs gave out beneath her, dropping her into the sling seat with a quiet thump. LeeAn tsked again as she pushed the chair in a tight circle, heading back toward the hall.
They almost managed to leave without anyone noticing Ava’s condition, but LeeAn had to turn them so she could back through the door, which brought Ava into full view. A few curious eyes glanced their way, but two pairs caught on them and held.
Dr. Veralt stepped away from the small crowd of medical personnel and strode toward Ava. As he did, he motioned for someone to follow, and Ava nearly groaned as she saw Quinn separate from the pack, a triumphant smile already playing around his narrow mouth.
“Ah, Miss Shaw,” Veralt said, gaze cold and calculating as it traveled from Ava’s head to her toes. “You seem to have some unexpected difficulty recovering from long-term immersion. I’ll have to note this in my report to Mr. Landon.” He lifted his ever-present screen and tapped at it a few times. “Now, did you have time to return Miss Landon to her bedroom?”
Had Aspen gotten Amy back to the castle, much less her bedroom? Ava didn’t know, had no way to verify, so she could only hope he’d managed to make it there in time. “Um, yes?” She hated the question in her tone, but couldn’t keep it out, and hoped Veralt would attribute it to her being startled to be the focus of his attention.
Veralt just nodded and tapped his screen again. “Good.” He glanced over at Quinn, then looked back at Ava. “Did Quinn remember to tell you not to go so far from the castle without a carriage in future?”
Ava’s brows furrowed. Quinn? She was sure Myles had said Veralt had come to talk to her. “I- Sir?” she stammered. “But, you-”
Something dark flickered in Veralt’s deep brown gaze before his lids dropped down and he tapped on his screen with a final click. “Very well,” the man said, flicking the screen so it rolled up. He slid it into his pocket and looked at Quinn. “Make sure she gets back to the locker room, then take her to her rooms. No excitement. She’s to stay there for the rest of the day. On my orders.”
Ava started to stand up from the chair in protest, but LeeAn’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Ava dropped back down again. Quinn grinned maliciously and motioned for LeeAn to go ahead as Veralt turned away. The wheelchair moved with a bump and a squeak, and Quinn held the door open until they were all the way out in the hall.
None of them spoke as the door closed behind them, banishing the babble and bustle of the pod room, and leaving them all in silence except for the soft whirring of the wheels of the chair. There was no one else around as LeeAn, Quinn, and Ava made their way the short distance to the women’s restroom and locker room. Even the central desk sat vacant and silent.
When they reached the recessed doorway, they all stopped, and LeeAn moved around to look down at Ava. “Are you feeling well enough to walk in,” she said, and though it was phrased as a question, there was no rising inflection at the end to suggest that it actually was.
Ava nodded and settled her feet on the ground, taking LeeAn’s proffered hand to help her stand. She had to blink as LeeAn’s smoothly professional face seemed to double, then recombined just as quickly. Though she tried not to look at Quinn, who was standing to the side as he pointedly offered no help at all, she couldn’t help but notice that his smirk was now blatant as he watched her stagger before firming her step. LeeAn’s hand dropped away, and Ava walked into the bathroom on her own.
As soon as they were through the door, however, the older woman’s aspect changed. Whirling, she set a supportive hand beneath Ava’s arm, gently urging her toward a bench. Muttering, LeeAn pulled open a nearby locker, taking out a small medical kit.
“Arm out,” she said, and Ava extended her arm, which she hadn’t even noticed still had the IV in it. With practiced movements, LeeAn removed it and bandaged Ava’s arm, holding her elbow high until the bleeding stopped.
“Girl,” LeeAn said, so quietly Ava almost couldn’t hear her. “You’ve got to get out of this place.” She kept her face turned toward Ava, mouth almost hidden by her shoulder as she continued holding Ava’s arm up. “I hear you’re supposed to see your daddy when you have time off.”
Ava started, but didn’t say anything. She had mentioned this in a private chat with Veronica, when the other woman asked if she would have time to hang out on her next break, but she hadn’t told anyone else. Did Veronica mention it to LeeAn, or did someone really read Ava’s texts? It made so much more sense that Veronica had said something, but somehow Ava didn’t think she had.
LeeAn saw her surprise and snorted softly. “No one talks to anyone here, but somehow everyone knows everything anyway. Don’t you worry about that right now.” Her fingers moved, tucking something into Ava’s hand as she finally let Ava lower her arm. “You enjoy that time with your daddy,” she said, stepping back. “I sure wish I’d taken a job closer to my family. It’d be nice to be able to see them whenever I want. More people should think about that, instead of just focusing on the money.”
Stepping back, she tilted her head toward the back of the room, where the bathroom stalls and the showers waited. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, so if you need help, you just call.”
Ava nodded and stood, fist clenched tight around the small, hard object hidden in her palm. Her legs felt stronger now, though her stomach was still queasy. “I… think I’m all right,” she said.
“Good,” LeeAn replied. “Let’s make sure you stay that way.”