Judging from the emotional flavors of the room, no one would be inclined to make small talk, much less tell him the things he needed to know. In the meantime, the narrow sleep shelf in his cell was calling his name.
8
NOVA NINE FACILITY • GDAT 3243.121
Julke straightened her pillow, then turned over on the narrow bed, away from the faint lights, and rearranged the blanket so it was even and just skimmed her shoulder. The cells were cool but not cold. Like most prisoners, she slept in her clothes so she’d have a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning.
Considering how long she’d been awake, she was going to need it. She was losing time in every way that mattered. Memories of Waorani’s defeat and its devastating effect on the prisoners tangled with dark visions of what the warden’s sadistic elite interrogators would do to the man. She’d been close enough to feel their sadistic glee. They’d want him awake, helpless, and aware of his destruction.
In the cell behind her, Lantham snored. No sound came from Sutrio’s.
Their square block of four cells was the first in a long corridor of them, with thick rock slabs between each block. A shared cylindrical core of plumbing and ventilation occupied the center of the four conjoined cells. The machine patterns in the rough rock gave mute evidence of having once been mined before becoming prison cell walls.
During designated sleep hours, the mine lowered the embedded lights to five percent, barely enough to avoid obstacles on the way to the fold-down fresher and cold-water faucet.
Just as she was considering yet another few laps around her cell, she heard the soft slaps of Zade’s bare feet hitting the metal floor in his cell. She’d heard him nearly as often as she’d gotten up herself.
Impulse born out of need had her rolling out of bed and crossing to his side of her cell. Rather than speak, she reached out with a touch of empath talent.
He vectored straight for her. “You okay?” His soft words were more breath than sound.
“No.” The darkness made it easier to admit. “Could you sit with me?” Suddenly she was fifteen again, asking her grandmother to hold her after her brother’s murder, hoping thefamiliestammatriarch would bend just this once.
“I’d like that. Be right back.”
She sank to the floor in relief and leaned her shoulder against the thick, wide slat. It amused her to imagine that instead of using the fresher, he was quickly hiding myriad griffins who had snuck into his bed after lights out.
When he returned, he sat on his side of the slats. “Would it be alright if we touched?”
In answer, she reached her smaller hand through and brushed cloth with her fingertips. His hand surrounded hers instantly. After hundreds of days of keeping her head down and guard up, it took conscious effort to relax some of her containment. It wouldn’t be kind to flood him with her chaotic cauldron of feelings.
He met her halfway.
Just like the first time, their talents twirled toward and around each other like two flames. The raw emotional storm caused by the events in the dining hall had battered them both. She offered him comfort where she could. He soothed her torn and jagged edges.
She couldn’t have said how long they sat holding hands, just being together.
A thread of worry snaked through his aura. “Are the cells monitored?”
“No, or half of us would be in the interrogation room by now.” Prudence made her add, “But that might change when they get more equipment. Kanogan is a twisted control freak and gets more paranoid by the day.”
“Ow!” He jerked, but didn’t let go of her hand. “Sorry. Mayek just climbed into my lap. His talons are sharp.”
Amusement bubbled in her. “I hope you don’t tell him his name means ‘Beacon of Light.’ His stealthy mates will tease him.”
They couldn’t prove the griffin was the same one that he and Sutrio had found, but it was a good bet. Stealth griffins weren’t common in the cells, even if prisoners offered food stolen right under the watchful prison staff noses.
“Don’t listen to her, Mayek,” he whispered. “It’s a noble name for a clever creature who warned us about the blowout.”
“Is Moonlet in there with you, too?” Julke didn’t have the mental connection that Zade and Sutrio had with the griffins, but she found comfort in Moonlet’s uncomplicated desire for food and to be the center of attention.
“No, she’s hunting, I think.” His voice dropped to barely audible. “I know how to get a full land cart. Just need the right moment.”
It took her a second to follow the new thought and realize he wasn’t talking about transportation. He’d saidlandkaart, an ancient Dutch word for “map.” She’d only asked him to get the staff and guards talking about the layout of their living quarters. A complete map of Nova Nine would shorten her timetable considerably.
“If you show me, I’ll remember it.” That information deserved to be shared. She vowed to find a way to show it to every prisoner with a filer or telepathic talent.
Emotion pulsed, but he contained it. “Can you hide things from nosy telepaths? I don’t think Waorani could.”
