Rising Tide (36 page)

I look at Rosie. I don't see her smile all too often, but right now she just looks miserable. She's always been one of those people who looks like she belongs everywhere. Until now. I might believe a lot, but I can't bring myself to believe that she set Maya up to escape. Maya was smart enough to figure that out on her own.

Doesn't mean I'm any less pissed at Rosie.

“Does the Council know?” I ask.

“Yes,” Diego says. “They're meeting right now to see if we should consider evacuation.”

“With this disease still in play?”

“They're scared,” Diego says. Another look in Rosie's direction. “Can you blame them? Even if the Cabal didn't know our location before, they do now.”

Rosie snaps, whirling on him. “You think I wanted this?” She throws both arms in the air. “She betrayed me, too!”

“There's a lot of that going around,” Diego says.

Rosie's eyes go wide and she starts to open her mouth, but I interrupt. “We don't have time for this,” I say. “If Maya's gone, then all we have is Hector. And we need to get what we need from him.”

“Did anyone talk to him?” Diego asks.

“Miranda,” I say. “Only he's not talking.”

“Then maybe we should make him talk,” Diego says. There's something dark and dangerous in his voice.

“How?” I ask. “You want to beat on him?”

Diego looks at me, and there's something chilling in his eyes. “That's exactly what I want to do.”

I get it. I do. They tortured Diego for days. I bet he has nightmares about it every night. I bet he still feels the pain both from the wounds that haven't healed and from the ones that never will. He wants to deal it back. Try to gain back that ground. Try to be the torturer instead. I might feel the same. But . . .

It wasn't that long ago that Captain Danning had me strapped to a table, trying to make me feel like I was drowning.

“I don't think that's the way to go.”

“Why not?” Diego asks. “It's what they would do.”

“It's what the Valhallans would do. What they have done. He's not one of them.”

“No,” Diego says. “He's something worse.”

I agree with him there.

“And what if he doesn't talk? Or he gives us bad information? Or if you damage him so badly that he dies on us? What then?”

Diego shrugs. “He's not talking now, so what difference does it make? At least this way we have a shot.” He fixes me with a stare. “What would you suggest?”

“We make a deal.”

“What?”

“These are manipulators, dealers. We give him something that appeals to him. Some kind of deal that gives him something in return for what we want.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Diego's expression is incredulous. “He infected our people, including Sergei, your friend. Miranda's friend. And you want to
give him something
?”

“What's all the yelling about,” Miranda asks, walking up to us.

“That was quick,” I say.

“I couldn't,” she says. “What's the matter?” she asks Diego.

Diego shakes his head. “Ask Ben. He seems to have lost his mind.”

“We're talking about how we can get Hector to talk,” I say. I've managed to stay calm all this time, but I can feel myself getting angrier the more Diego pushes. “Diego wants to torture him.”

Miranda looks at Diego in surprise. “Really?”

Diego crosses his arms, nods. “I think it's our best bet. We need information fast. Sergei isn't getting better, and the Council is talking about evacuation, and this disease is still spreading.”

“No,” Miranda says. “We're not torturing him. It's not right.”

“Fuck what's right,” Diego says. “Nothing about this is
right
. We don't have the luxury anymore of thinking in those terms. This is what they would do. If we're not willing to use the same tools, then we're definitely going to lose.”

Miranda shakes her head. “I would think that you'd be the last person to want this.”

“Why? Because they tortured me? They shot Ben, and he's still willing to shoot back at them. How is this different?”

“Because we're better than that,” she says. “If we torture him, how are we different from them?”

“That's a stupid argument,” Diego says. “We know what we're about. What we want. What we stand for. This is just a tool. For a very specific purpose. I'm not even saying to kill him. Just get what we need.”

“No,” Miranda says.

“And you get to decide?” Diego says.

“I'm the one researching this disease,” she says. “I'm the only one here who knows what information we need.”

“Well, I think this is bigger than you,” Diego says. “And I think maybe Lewis will be interested in this.” He moves to the door, pauses after opening it. “You know I'm right. Deep down inside, you know. You just don't want to be the one who does it. So don't. Let me.” Then he leaves.

Miranda lets out an angry sigh and shakes her head.

I turn to Rosie. “You were awfully quiet during all that. No opinion?”

“Oh, I have an opinion,” Rosie says. “I agree with Diego. Only . . .”

“Yes?”

“I don't want him doing that.”

“Interrogating Hector?”

She nods. “You haven't seen him. The nightmares. How it twists him up. I'm afraid . . . I'm afraid that he would lose himself. That he would go too far and then . . . not forgive himself. I won't see him go through something like that again. The regret. The punishment.” She tilts her chin in the air. “I won't.”

“Well, hopefully none of us will have to see that,” Miranda says. “Although I don't like the thought of Lewis getting involved.”

“We should go talk to him, too,” I say. “Get ahead of this. It will look better if we can present him other options at the same time rather than after the fact, when he's had time to set his opinions.”

“Good idea,” Miranda says. “What are our other options?”

“We appeal to them as equals. Convince them to treat us as such. That's what my gut tells me. You met some of them up on Gastown—what do you think?”

Miranda nods. “It could work. But it has to be done just right.”

We push out into the daylight, walking in the direction of Lewis's office. I reach out for Miranda's hand, try to grab it, but she pulls it away and wraps it around her body. “Sorry,” she says. “It's just with Sergei . . .” Her voice catches and she suppresses a sob. “He's not doing well.”

“We'll find something out,” I say.

Miranda sniffs. “I almost want Lewis to make us do what Diego wants,” she says. “If only because it might actually work.”

“Well, after what Rosie said . . .” I break off and look around. “Wait, where's Rosie?” A moment later it hits me, and I panic and run back to where we're keeping Hector, Miranda on my heels.

I burst into the room to catch Rosie punching Hector in the face. When his head lifts back up, a thread of sticky blood drips from his mouth. His face still looks flat, but he smiles a bit. I run and grab Rosie, pull her back.

“Let me go!”

“No,” I say. I'm aware that she could probably kick my ass right now, but I'm hoping she won't.

Hector spits on the ground. “Animals,” he says. “Thinking with your fists, as usual. That's why you'll lose.” He spits again. “You're barely a step above Ferals.”

Miranda moves forward, assessing Hector. An area around his eye and cheek is red, already swelling. And the busted lip. His blood is pooled on the floor. Miranda is staring at it. I get the chills. I know he's clean. That Miranda tested him. But I'm just used to staying away from blood. And his is all out in the open.

Miranda reaches into a pocket and pulls out a syringe.

“Miranda, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Help me,” she says. “Quickly.”

I don't know what the hell is going on, but this is Miranda and there's no one else I trust more on the planet, so I do what she says. “Hold him and roll up his arm.”

Hector frowns. He squirms a bit, but he's tied to the chair and I hold him firm, rolling up his sleeve. Miranda sticks the syringe into a vein—the man's veins virtually pop from his skin—and takes a blood sample.

As she's about to pull it out, Hector spits blood into her face. Miranda freezes in surprise. I let his arm go and punch him hard.

Miranda moves away, wiping at her face. And I realize what I've done. “Sorry,” I say, but I don't know who I'm apologizing to.

“It won't help you,” Hector says.

“We'll see,” Miranda says.

I make sure Rosie comes with us when we leave.

“What was that all about?” I ask. Miranda is moving quickly, back in the direction of her lab.

“It suddenly occurred to me when I was looking at his blood that if I were going to send people into a hostile situation with a dangerous disease, that I would try to inoculate them against the disease.”

“Can they do that?” I ask.

She shrugs. “They designed the virus in the first place. It wouldn't be hard to develop some kind of method of inoculation. Not with the techniques they seem to have access to.”

“Okay, what good does that do us?” I ask.

“If he has antibodies in his system, it could give us a better idea of what we're dealing with. And it would prove that a vaccine is possible.”

“Will a vaccine help Sergei?”

Her face darkens. “No. It wouldn't help people already infected. But it should prevent more people from getting sick. If I could get one made.”

“We'll get the rest of the boffins on it,” I say. She nods.

Back at the lab, Miranda gets to work, summoning all the boffins, giving them orders, explaining what's happening, what she needs them to do. It's a small bit of hope, even if it does nothing for Sergei.

I take the opportunity to talk to Rosie. “What the hell were you doing?”

“Trying to get answers,” she says. She still has that defiant look in her eyes.

“You don't know all the questions.”

“You wanted him to talk. I can make him talk.”

“You don't get to make those decisions,” I say, feeling my anger rise.

Her finger presses against my chest, beneath where my cut is, and the pain sparks. “I don't recall voting for you. And last I checked, I lived here first. You're still a newcomer, Ben. I know you think you can just fly in here and take charge and be a big man, but you're not. You're just one of many. You're a fucking guest. I did what I thought was necessary. To get answers. And to keep Diego out of that room.”

“Haven't you done enough?” I ask. It lands just how I want it to. She practically flinches.

She quickly recovers. “Next time you grab me like that, you better be prepared to put me down.”

“Noted.”

She scowls and then walks away.

I shake my head. We're falling apart. And this is no doubt what the Cabal wants—us scattered, confused, at each other's throats. We're exactly where they want us to be.

Lewis finds us a short while later. Diego is with him, and some of Tamoanchan's peacekeepers. “Where's Miranda?” he asks me when I go to meet him.

“She's working,” I say. “She thinks Hector may already have antibodies in his blood. To protect him from the disease. She thinks she can make a vaccine.”

Lewis chews on this for a moment, then nods. “Good. Very good.”

“I thought you'd like that. Have you decided about evacuation?”

“The discussion is still ongoing,” he says.

“Then why are you here?” I ask.

“Diego convinced me that we should get as much information as we can out of the prisoner, as quickly as we can.”

“By any means possible?” I ask.

He shrugs. “We'll start easy. Work our way up.”

“Miranda's going to have more questions for him.”

“We'll let her know when he's being cooperative.”

“I don't suppose I can convince you otherwise?”

He smiles at me. “No.”

I hold my hands up as if in surrender. “Okay, then. It's your island.” I look at Diego. “You might want to talk to your sister before you do anything.”

“There's nothing I need to hear from her right now,” he says.

I shake my head but turn to go.

“This will work, Ben,” Diego says. “You'll see.”

“I hope so,” I say.

As they open the door to Hector's cell, I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. This all feels wrong.