Weight of the Heart (Bruna Husky Book 2) (30 page)

42

B
runa opened her eyes. It was day, and she was lying on the forest floor. Moaning, she got up and kept walking.

She opened her eyes and it was night. She was freezing and disorientated. She advanced a few meters on all fours. She finally managed to grab hold of a tree and pull herself upright.

She opened her eyes and saw a female human and a male rep looking at her. The rep leaned over her and said,
“Easydoesityou’reinafieldhospitalinPoriwhat’syourname?”
—which Bruna wasn’t able to understand.

She opened her eyes and found herself in Paul Lizard’s arms. She thought,
I’m delirious.
She was burning with fever. But Lizard smelled of cedar, and he was cradling her and whispering, “My Bruna, my little Bruna.”

That she did understand.

43

S
he opened her eyes and saw the nurse coming in with her breakfast.

“How are you feeling, Bruna?”

“Great. Like new. Desperate to get out of here.”

“Today’s the big day, eh?”

“I hope so.”

Bruna had now been moved out of the isolation unit. She’d undergone a short round of cellular regeneration, because at Onkalo she’d experienced brief exposure to radiation—not too heavy, but enough to create potential problems in the future. The island of Olkiluoto was contaminated. When the thieves had handled the cylinders in order to steal the toxic waste, they’d reduced its protection capacity and caused some radioactive emissions. That’s how Gand and Yárnoz had ended up contaminated. As for Gabi’s contamination, after Lizard and his Squad analyzed Nichu Nichu’s mobile and arrested Marlagorka and his network, it became clear that they had been selling some of the nuclear waste to ultrareligious and ultranationalist terrorist groups in the borderland zones—hair-raising given that those madmen had the capacity to make nuclear warheads at any moment. On top of that, the handling of the material seemed to have been far from rigorous. The authorities were carrying out tests in the zones to which the waste had been transported, and several locations had already shown worrying levels of radiation. Among these was Dzerzhinsk, the little Russian’s hometown. All this had hit the airwaves and created an enormous stir, a political tsunami. Labari found itself forced to admit to its use of nuclear energy, and after an initial few days of unbearable tension during which war seemed inevitable, both the Kingdom and Earth were now searching for solutions. The President of the USE, Amalia Ming, was forced to call an early election, which she probably would not win. The whole world now knew of the existence and danger of Onkalo, but Bruna was certain that this wouldn’t last too long. It would take only a couple of human generations before the beast buried itself in the shadows again. In fifty years nobody would know about all the poison lying there buried beneath the old woods of Olkiluoto.

Bruna got out of bed and had breakfast at the small table. The food was delicious. The hospital was one of the best in Madrid, thanks to her amazing medical insurance. How wise she’d been to choose insurance over a resettlement payment. Clara had of course made the same decision, which was why she was so broke after being discharged. Bruna thought about Clara for a moment and missed her very much.

She ran a hand over her head and again felt the strangeness of feeling all that hair. She hadn’t been able to shave since she’d left Pori for Onkalo, which was fifteen days ago. She went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror; she looked weird. Almost human. She grabbed the shaver.

“Bruna?”

It was Lizard. The delight she felt on hearing his voice surprised her. She left the bathroom with the shaver in her hand.

“Hi, Paul. I was about to shave my head.”

“If you like, I’ll do it. It will be hard for you to do it with only one hand.”

“Okay. Great.”

Lizard sat down on the bed, sat her on the bathroom stool between his legs, and began to shave off her hair.

“I’ve already got the report from the specialists who entered the Onkalo facility. Nichu Nichu’s neck was broken. Clara really did break it—the neck of a very dangerous professional killer armed with a black-plasma gun. You’re pretty tough, you Huskys.”

Bruna smiled.

“There was also a small lead-lined case with radioactive material inside. Clara must have become contaminated when she was forced to load it in. I don’t know if it was destined for Marlagorka. I’m more inclined to think that Nichu Nichu intended to go into business for herself,” Lizard said, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Your hair’s grown a lot, Bruna. I’ve nearly filled the container. And you know what? There are those who say the Trinitarian mafia was behind it all, that Marlagorka was nothing more than a lackey of Trinity, assuming that Trinity exists.”

Lizard had gone to look for her. He had arrived in Pori and found her in a miserable field hospital without any identification and with deplorable medical attention. In Pori they’d picked her up and attended to her because all combat reps belonged to the USE army; the rebels had no reps. But the hospital lacked the means to look after her adequately. Lizard had brought her to Madrid. And he’d hugged her, he’d caressed her, and he’d said pretty things to her. Bruna pretended to be more ill than she really was so she’d continue to receive his affection. When she could no longer continue with the pretense, the outpourings of love ended. But she remembered them.

“Done. You can see your tattoo again,” Lizard said.

Bruna felt her skull. Soft and smooth. She was herself again.

Lizard’s arms enfolded her, and the inspector’s head rested on her shoulder.

“Do you need me to shave anything else?” he whispered in her ear.

To be within his embrace, sheltered against his chest, was like being in a nest. The rep smiled. At that moment she felt incredibly well. She felt at peace.

“No. I don’t think so.”

Gabi came into the room like a whirlwind, followed by a panting Yiannis. Lizard let go of Bruna, and they both stood up.

“Hi, Bruna,” said the little Russian.

“Hi, Gabi.”

It was the first time she’d seen the child since the day she’d gone to say good-bye to her in the hospital. The little monster maintained her customary air of detachment. Yiannis had already told Bruna that he’d started to process the paperwork to adopt her legally. It was a relief that the archivist was going to look after her.

“I’ve got some really good news, Bruna! Well, two pieces of good news actually,” said the old man with a happy expression on his face.

Too happy, to be honest. He’d reconnected the endorphin pump and bore all the signs of being on a high. The rep looked at him warily.

“Oh. That’s good. What are they?”

“Well, the first one is that the International Foundation for Transparency has given you its annual prize of thirty thousand gaias for your contribution to the disclosure of the military conflicts in the border regions.”

“Wow! That really
is
good news. And the second one?”

“I’ve already invested twenty-six thousand Gs in the creation of a political movement!”

“What?”

“Yes! It’s going to be called One More Step, and we’re going to demand that governments work meaningfully to change conditions that are clearly unjust and undemocratic, like, for instance, allowing destitute children to die of radiation sickness when there’s a cure for it. I’ve informed the foundation of the use we’re going to make of their money, and they’re delighted. They’ve already announced it to the media.”

Stunned, Bruna looked at him and suddenly felt a ridiculous urge to laugh. “Do I at least get the other four thousand Gs?” she asked him hesitantly.

“Yes. Those you definitely can have.”

Luckily, they’d given her back her license, even though she had been unable to complete her treatment with the tactile. The Administration decided she’d done enough to warrant it. So she’d be able to work. And anyway, until a minute ago she hadn’t even known she’d received anything.
Crazy old man! Still hoping to change the world. He’s such a persistent madman that he just might achieve it.

“Tell me the end of the story, Bruna,” demanded Gabi. “You promised. It’s your turn.”

Yes, she had promised. Better to be finished with it once and for all.

“Okay. Do you remember where we were?”

“Death had caught up with them and had kissed the giant on the lips, and then the giant had fallen to the ground vomiting blood. I think he was dead,” said the girl.

“Of course. Yes. He was. And then Death turned toward the dwarf, ready to finish him off as well. But the dwarf got down on his knees and asked Death if he could please, please have a last wish. In fact the tradition of granting a final wish to prisoners sentenced to death started right there. The dwarf told Death that since he liked to draw and he was good at it, he’d like to draw this final scene: the fallen giant, the countryside, Death waiting and dominating everything. Death, who was proud and vain, felt flattered by the idea of being the subject of such a picture and granted his wish. Then the dwarf picked up a little stick, wet it with the giant’s blood, and began to paint on a big, vertical limestone rock. First he painted the valley they were in, the mountains, and the trees, and his lines were so realistic the leaves seemed to sway in the breeze. Next he set about painting a river with a small, dark boat floating in the distance. But in the picture the river kept rising, rising so high that it spilled over the edges of the limestone rock, and a stream of water red like blood splashed the feet of the dwarf and began to collect a few meters lower down where Death was. The level rose so quickly that it immediately covered the giant’s body and made Death lose her footing. Death, taken by surprise, tried to swim, but she couldn’t float on the river of blood. In the meantime the little boat in the picture had been coming closer and closer. It was moving with the current, and now you could see that there was someone on board. The water was now so high that it reached the middle of the dwarf’s chest. Just then the boat reached him, and in it was the giant, alive and smiling, together with a little dog with three heads that had its front paws propped up on the side of the boat and was happily wagging its tail. The giant stretched out an arm, grabbed the dwarf by the scruff of his neck, and, easily lifting him up, sat him down in the little boat right beside him. They turned the boat around and happily rowed off on their river of bloodred water. The end.”

Beaming, Gabi put her hands together and cried out, “I like it. I like your story.”

“Lovely,” said Yiannis.

“Thank you.”

“And Death drowned?” asked the little Russian.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Why is there a dog with three heads?” she asked.

Bruna thought for a moment before saying, “Because monsters are beautiful.”

Gabi nodded as if Bruna had just said something obvious. Then she raised her index finger in the air and pronounced conclusively, “And the little dog was tied to the boat.”

“Yes, of course he was. He was wearing a beautiful leash with a good knot,” said Bruna.

She’d never seen the little Russian so satisfied.

Clara was right:
the story needed a happy ending.

“You’re good at telling lies,” said Lizard with a smile. “You must have gotten that from your memorist.”

“Look who’s talking,” she teased playfully.

Suddenly, a suspicion burst into Bruna’s head. A piece of evidence she hadn’t picked up on until that very moment. Her smile froze.

“Paul, how did you find me?”

“What?”

“You know perfectly well what I’m asking you. I didn’t have a mobile, so you couldn’t trace it. I didn’t have any identification. I could have been anywhere. But you didn’t take long to locate me and went directly to that hospital. How did you do it?”

Lizard grunted and ran his hand across the back of his neck. Bruna felt indignation starting to bubble up inside her.

“That supposed emergency calling device you stuck on my arm wasn’t really a calling device, was it? It was a tracking chip, like I said. You denied it and denied it. Bastard.”

The inspector rubbed his face and then gave her a tired, distressed look, admitting, “It’s true. It was a tracker chip. I regret having lied, but if I’d told you the truth, you wouldn’t have let me put it on you. I was concerned about you. And that’s the truth. I said to you, ‘If you need me, I’ll come and find you.’ Those are the important words. Please keep the important part. If I had lied about that, I’d understand if you called me a bastard. But I did come and find you.”

Bruna studied him, still feeling angry. Those sharp green eyes under the heavy lids; that deep, wounded look with which he seemed capable of piercing her. Yes, he had gone to look for her. She remembered herself in his arms, protected by his powerful chest.
My little Bruna,
he’d said. Only someone as enormous as Lizard could call her little. He was her giant, and he’d come in a boat to rescue her from Death.

“Yes, you came,” whispered the rep as her aggression evaporated.

At that moment not only did she desire Lizard intensely but she also felt something for him that she couldn’t define. Something more disturbing, silkier, more loving. Something that left her helpless.

“Ready for the big day?” Dr. Tatu exclaimed enthusiastically as he came into the room with his usual excess of energy.

He was greeted by a chorus of voices. He was the doctor who had implanted Bruna’s bionic arm. He was apparently a leading light in the medical profession, although he was still young and seemed slightly crazy. The prosthesis had been inserted ten days ago, but the biosilicone coating and the new nerve endings had taken all this time to fuse with the rest of her arm. If the implant was good today, Bruna could go home.

“Let’s take a look,” said Tatu, opening the clasps on the rigid accelerated-healing case that surrounded Bruna’s wounded limb. After the doctor carefully removed the case, the rep held her arm against her chest, where it had been all those days, and scrutinized it. It was perfect. It was almost impossible to tell it was a prosthesis.