"He's really gone?" Her voice was so small; despite all her talk to the contrary Syl knew she'd never really expected this to happen. Slowly she nodded, and Jondy's lip trembled. Syl reached for her, pulled her close, held her tightly as she cried softly.
"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay, baby sister, shshsh." Jondy clung to her, sobbing now, and Syl walked her further into the apartment, where they all took a seat on the sofa. Jondy reached for Zane's hand and squeezed.
"I didn't-" She broke off, found it hard to finish her sentence. "I never- this is..." Finally she gave up but Syl and Zane both nodded.
"I know," he said gently, his hand stroking against her soft hair. Jondy sat there for a long time, staring at nothing. Finally she spoke again.
"How long have you been here, Syl?" Her voice was quiet.
"A couple of days," she said. Jondy raised her eyebrows and Syl was sure her tone would have been bitter if she hadn't been so tired.
"Fast work, Zane," she said. He glanced at her, confused.
"What?" he asked; Jondy looked at Syl.
"How does that work with Krit?" she asked. "Are you going to tell him you two slept together?"
"What- How-" Syl swallowed hard, glanced away. "I don't know." Zane was wide-eyed.
"This whole apartment reeks of you two and sex," Jondy informed them. "You're lucky I can breathe through it." Syl felt fatigue settle in on her at the complications that was going to bring. Zane's voice was soft.
"We have more important things to worry about," he said. Jondy stood up abruptly.
"Fine," she snapped, and left the room.
"What was that?" Zane wondered, bemused. Syl remembered Jondy's complaints about his frequent girlfriends, the look in her eyes when he'd described any of them.
"I think she likes you," she said softly. Zane looked momentarily confused, then stressed.
"Oh." He shook his head. "I'm too tired."
"I know," Syl agreed. "But she's right... what am I going to tell Krit?" Zane looked at her, looked at his hands, back at her.
"Do you still want to wreck it?" he asked gently.
There was a long silence and then Syl whispered, "No." She blinked against tears. "Do you think that's selfish?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's not. But it does complicate things slightly."
"I'm sorry I got you into this, Zane," she said softly.
"I could have said no," he pointed out. She gazed at him for a long time, wondered if that was true; she had taken complete advantage of his goodness, his desire not to hurt her. She'd begged him, said it would help her; could he have really said no? She reached out and touched his face.
"I'm sorry," she said again, softly. He opened his mouth to respond, but Jondy reentered the room at that moment, frowning at them. Syl dropped her hand from Zane's face and leaned back. Something flickered in Jondy's eyes before she spoke.
"So we go," she said calmly. "We go get him. All of us."
"He gave us direct orders not to." As soon as she'd said it Syl realized she didn't care. "When the others get here we'll talk about it." Jondy nodded.
"What else did he say?" she asked quietly, sitting down in one of Zane's chairs.
"He said he loved us," Syl answered softly. Tears sprung to all their eyes and Jondy nodded again.
"It's not fair," she said. Her words hung in the air for a long time.
"No one ever said it was going to be fair, Jondy," Zane said softly. "What happened to Brin wasn't fair."
"No more," Jondy whispered. "No more." They sat there, silent, unable to comfort her, the world shattering in around all of them.
Zane and Syl slept sitting where they were, and even Jondy drifted off
for two or three hours, exhausted from crying and driving and crying again. It
was close to noon the next day when Tinga arrived, her hair flowing down her
back because she hadn't had time or thought to secure it in its customary
double-plait.
"What did you tell Charlie?" Syl asked, not even getting up from her seat. They were all just sitting there, too tired to move, and Tinga immediately collapsed into one of the chairs as well. She sat there for so long Syl wondered if she'd even heard the question, but finally Tinga's eyes narrowed and she frowned.
"I don't remember," she said. Syl nodded, not surprised. Confusion passed over Tinga's features. "What's that smell?" Jondy waved her hand in the general direction of Syl and Zane.
"It's them," she said. "We closed the bedroom door and opened the window in there but you can still smell it everywhere."
"But I thought Krit..." Tinga trailed off, managed a small smile for Syl. "Okay," she said.
"What are you going to say when he walks in and smells that?"
"Hush, Jondy," Syl said, closing her eyes.
"Well," she persisted. "At least it was just because of the grief." Confused, Syl glanced at her.
"What?"
"Grief," Jondy repeated. "At least you two were so devastated that you weren't thinking right." There was a short silence; Tinga was watching but not saying anything. Zane glanced at Syl and then he sighed.
"It was before," he said softly. "Before Zack called." Jondy stared at him, stricken. She stood up. She sat down again.
"Oh," she said, and blinked, stared at her hands. "Oh."
"Jondy," Zane murmured. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Why are you apologizing to me?" she snapped, brushing angrily at her tears. "I'm not the one you just betrayed." Her eyes flickered with the lie of her words and then she glared at him. "You should apologize to Krit."
"I will," Zane said, running a hand through his hair. "When all this is over, I will."
"Dammit, Zane!" Jondy stood up and kicked his coffee table, overturning it. Her fists clenched as she reeled on him. "It's never going to be over." She turned and stalked into the kitchen, banged cupboard doors and slammed drawers. Syl heard the familiar sound of a gun being loaded and then the front door opened.
"Want me to come?" Tinga called immediately, but Jondy caught the alarm in her voice. She came back into the room and smirked.
"We're not suicidal, Tinga," she snapped. "That defeats the whole purpose of... us." Her eyes flitted to Zane and something gleamed in her eyes, a flicker that wasn't entirely sane; Syl knew that look of Jondy's well, and she'd never liked it. Her sister cradled the gun in her hands. "I'm going," she said. "I'll be back later." Then she left the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Zane glanced at Tinga, nodded as though she'd just said something.
"When all this is over," he said. "I'm going to have a lot of things to say."
"It'll probably have to be sooner than that for Krit," Tinga said softly. "As soon as he walks in here he's going to know."
"I don't smell anything," Zane said, frustrated.
"Of course you don't," she said, her tone gentle. "You can't smell yourself."
"I'll talk to him as soon as he walks in," Syl said in small voice. There was a short silence and then Tinga's brow furrowed. She glanced in the direction Jondy had gone, looked at Zane, frowned.
"Have I missed something with her?" she asked quietly.
"A lot," Syl agreed heavily. She smiled bitterly. "But nothing important compared with what's going on now."
"I miss him already," Tinga said softly. She glanced at Syl as a thought struck her. "Did he say anything about Case?"
"No." Syl shook her head apologetically. "There wasn't enough time for him to say anything much." Tinga nodded sadly.
"We were talking a little while ago about him," she explained. "What to do now that he's old enough for school..." She trailed off, her eyes tired and worried. "He's so unusual."
"It'll be okay," Syl told her sister softly, reaching out to touch her hand. Tinga's dark eyes raised to hers and she forced a smile.
"Of course." She reached out and squeezed her hand. "How are you holding up?" Syl shrugged.
"How are any of us?" she asked softly, and no one answered.
When Krit arrived Jondy was already back from target practice at a junk
yard, less angry but not speaking now, which was fine with Syl. They heard the
door opening and Syl's heart froze, but she forced herself to her feet, forced
herself to walk to the door. He stepped inside, closed it, gazed at her for a
moment. She knew the exact moment that he realized, because his breath caught
sharply, his mouth half fell open, and his eyes became painful to look at. Syl
reached for his hand but he jerked away. Then he reconsidered and held onto her
tightly. She managed a weak smile.
"Come outside with me," she said, desperate for his agreement. Krit nodded and Syl was glad that the others, especially Jondy, were staying in the living room. She called a quick goodbye and pushed him into the hall, closed the door behind them; Krit looked relieved to be out of the apartment. He reached out and ran a hand down her cheek, his eyes so sad that they broke her heart.
"Why?" he whispered. He opened his mouth to say something else, closed it, shook his head. A few tears slipped down his cheeks and he ran a hand slowly through his hair. "Why, Syl?" he asked again finally in a heartbroken voice. She squeezed his hand, dropped it, her lower lip trembling. Her hand shook as she brushed the hair from her face. She took a deep breath, released it, took another.
"I know it doesn't mean anything," she whispered. "But I'm so sorry."
"That doesn't answer my question, Syl," he said softly after a long time.
"I don't know how to answer your question, Krit," she said, equally soft. He gazed at her.
"Why?" he breathed again.
"There isn't really anything that I could say that would fix it," she whispered. Krit's eyes slowly raised to hers.
"Were you in heat?" he asked softly. She shook her head and his eyes dropped again. "Then no," he said. "There isn't." Neither of them said anything for a long time.
"What's going to happen now, Krit?" she whispered when she couldn't stand the silence anymore.
"I don't know, Syl," he said in a quiet voice. He glanced at her. "Are you pregnant?"
"No," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. It made her feel slightly less like the lowest form of humanity when she realized that she wished the answer was yes. Krit took two steps slowly backward and fell against the wall of the hallway, sliding down to a sitting position on the floor. She slowly sat across from him, and he laid his head on his knees, gazing at her sideways for so long that it made her uncomfortable, but she didn't turn away because she owed him that, owed him everything.
After what must have been at least a half hour he blinked and raised his head. He got to his feet and she did too, slowly. Then he sort of stood there for a few moments, and hesitantly met her eyes again. She swallowed nervously and waited.
"Okay," he said. "Here's what we're going to do." His voice sounded so calm that it was unnerving. "I'm going to forgive you, and you're going to wait here," he began; her eyebrows lifted in surprised relief at the first statement, then she frowned at the second. He finished, "And I'm going to kill Zane." Her eyes widened as he started past her and she reached out, grabbed his shoulder. He tore his arm away from her violently and glared. "Don't, Syl," he growled.
"It's not his fault," she said urgently, knowing he could really hurt Zane, knowing Zane could really hurt him. "It's not," she repeated.
"What, you climbed on top of yourself and made that smell?" he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm and pain. She cringed.
"I did it," she whispered. "It was me. I started it." He stared at her for a long time, his dark eyes so sad and hurt and betrayed that it made her want to cry, go back in time and shoot herself before she could do what she did.
"Why?" he asked that question again, so soft and heart-wrenching. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
"I don't know," she sobbed. "I don't know."
"Don't," he whispered, his voice hard. "Don't you dare cry, Syl, don't you dare make me feel sorry for you." Her tears came uncontrollably stronger and she tried to stop them but the more she did the more upset she became, so finally she pressed a hand over her mouth to try and stifle her cries. Krit stared at her for a long time. "Stop it," he said.
"I'm trying," she whispered. "I'm trying." After a long time she managed to get her breathing under control, managed not to sob so loudly. She took a deep breath, looked at him. He nodded.
"I'm going in now," he said. "Stay here, Syl." He started to walk past her but she reached out again, grabbed his arm.
"No!" she said, pulling him back. He wrenched out of her grip again and then suddenly his hand was on her upper arm and she felt her head hit the wall with a sharp crack. She gasped more in surprise than pain and stared at him.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do now," he said, low. He released her roughly, shoving her back against the wall. "Stay. Here," he repeated, his words intentionally spaced as he turned away again.
"Don't hurt him," she whispered. "Please, Krit, don't." Her hands reached out tentatively, touched his shoulders, caressed as they pulled him backward. She felt his whole body stiffen and he whirled out of her gentle grasp.
Syl heard another crack and her head reeled, strange lights dancing in her eyes as she suddenly found herself on the floor. She looked down and there was blood on the smooth hardwood; a shaky hand raised to her face and felt it trickling down from her nose, felt the pain hit her, sensed the broken bone. Krit's hands were on her shoulders, pulling her upright, but she'd already forgiven him by the time he had her on her feet, reaching out to pull him close. She'd deserved that, she knew it, even if he had said to her once, I don't care what a woman does, I would never hit her.
All that made the second blow even more surprising. This time it was to the side of her head more than to her face, and she felt her scalp open, warm blood soaking her hair. The pain came again and she felt the bone around her left eye give way slightly under his fist, and its vision went red as blood coursed down her face. Her body had automatically gone slack at the first blow out of habit, though her mind registered that this was not the same as the others, that this was Krit and that made everything different. She still reacted the same way though, waited for the blows to stop, waited for his fists to lower and for him to realize what he was doing. She looked into his eyes but they were cold, concentrated, far away somewhere, almost calm in their determination.
Vaguely, in the background of her hearing, off to the side where she couldn't see or sense or care about, she heard the sound of a door slamming. Then shouting. Screaming. Krit's next blow never came as he was dragged off her and without his hand clenched firmly on her arm she couldn't stand, and she felt herself collapsing, falling. She raised her head, looked around for Krit, saw him standing against the opposite wall, staring at her as Tinga stood between them, fire in her dark eyes. Her hand rested firm against his chest and her lips were moving but Syl couldn't hear what she was saying, only a ringing in her ear and the pounding of her own heart. After a few moments Tinga seemed satisfied with Krit's calmness, and she slowly lowered her hand. Syl jumped as she suddenly felt Zane leaning down beside her; he reached gently for her arms to help her get up. She saw Krit start toward them and watched Tinga physically shove him back against the wall; fear leapt into Syl's heart for her sister's safety.
"Go on," Zane said in a quiet voice, releasing her once she was on her feet. "Get inside."
"He didn't mean it," she told him, and she didn't know if she believed it but she had to because this was Krit and if he had meant it everything was going to change. She stressed again, "He didn't."
"Yeah," Zane answered, not sounding like he agreed at all. "Go, Syl," he said. "Inside." He glanced at Tinga. "You too."
"No, I'm staying," she said firmly, her eyes flashing. "I'm not letting you two kill each other in a testosterone rage." Zane's mouth set into a firm line but he finally nodded, giving Syl a little push.
"Go on," he said.
"He didn't mean it," she whispered again to no reply; she managed to walk shakily past Krit and into Zane's apartment. When she was inside dizziness hit her; the wall was too far away for her to grab, and her knees buckled and then she was falling again. Jondy came out of nowhere and caught her, let out an oof, dragged her to Zane's bedroom and let her fall onto the bed. She left and Syl laid there, trying to understand what had just happened. Her sister returned with a first aid kit, treated her wounds.
"Not so bad," she murmured as she cleaned the blood away so gently Syl didn't even feel it. "It looks worse than it is."
"You should be a nurse," Syl whispered. Jondy glanced at her as she reached for some gauze.
"I have been," she said. "You'd know that if you'd ever cared to ask." Syl's eyes fluttered closed but that hurt so she opened them again.
"Not now," she whispered. Jondy reached down and swept her hair away gently.
"No," she agreed with a soft smile, her hands gentle and light against Syl's face. "Not now."
The corridor back from psy-ops was cold, but anything had to be better
than where she'd been, and she was tired and afraid. She'd almost forgotten that
she'd ever been anywhere else but psy-ops, and the darkness was close, pressing
in on her.
"701," Lydecker barked, glancing at her sideways as they walked. She turned her face to him immediately, knowing she looked tired and gaunt, her eyes hollow. He fixed her with a careful stare. "Was there a bird in the woods that day?" he asked, his voice soft in a way that wasn't kind.
"No, sir," she answered immediately, knew somewhere in the back of her mind that once she would have considered that a lie. "There wasn't a bird."
"Why did you kill X5-376?"
"I was jealous, sir."
"And your punishment?"
"Lenient for such a crime," she said, glanced at him. "Thank you, sir."
"Who are you?"
"X5-701, sir."
"Your barcode number. Now!" She stopped walking and snapped to attention.
"331366001701, sir!" she answered immediately. He nodded, satisfied, and motioned for the guard to continue with her. She saluted, then watched him turn and leave, left with the other man, following beside him quietly and obediently as they walked along the cold concrete floor. When they got to the barracks where the siblings she barely remembered now were sleeping, he left and she collapsed into bed, shivering.
"Here," Jondy's voice came sweet and low through the darkness immediately. Her body pressed warm against her sister's icy skin and Max's did the same on the other side.
"Don't worry, Syl," she whispered, hugging her close, taking her feet between her own and rubbing her shoulder to make her warm up.
"Syl," Jondy whispered. "Sleep." Hearing her name spoken again after so long made tears slip down Syl's cheeks. She'd almost forgotten, almost broken the promise she'd given to Zack when they'd dragged her off, her promise not to forget who she was...
"They told me there wasn't a bird," she whispered, sobbing, shaking, teeth chattering. Max's hand was smooth against her hair.
"I saw it," she whispered. "It was there." Relief coursed through Syl as her other sister kissed her forehead, pulled her closer.
"Sleep now," Jondy said. "You did a good job, Syl."
"They believed you," Max agreed softly. "They gave you back." Syl realized she didn't understand, didn't realize that Syl hadn't been lying, but that she'd believed it, that they had released her because they'd won. Jondy's blue eyes met her brown ones knowingly and she nodded.
"Sleep," Jondy said again, gently. Held close between her two warm, loving sisters, she shut her eyes and allowed weeks of exhaustion to catch up with her, both glad and guilty that neither of them had mentioned Bram. Syl dreamed of scorching light and ravens.
Jondy suddenly let out a small cry and her hands stopped; Syl shook off
the memory, looked up at her sister through vision that was getting better by
the moment. Jondy looked at her and she recognized that expression- her eyes
were devastated, begging. The fact that Syl had never liked Jondy had caused her
little sister to frequently seek both approval and comfort from her, and she was
looking for comfort now. Syl waited for her to speak.
"Could we have saved them?" Her voice was so soft, so frightened; she sounded so alone. "Did we miss something, Syl?" She considered Jondy's question, remembering all her guilt over Brin, the signs they didn't see, the things they didn't listen to, being away when she might have needed them. She remembered in the days after Zack's disappearance talking about going to Seattle and not doing it because things came up, things always came up. She raised her dark eyes to Jondy's desperate blue ones and then smiled a little, shook her head.
"No," she said firmly, reaching her hand up to touch her sister's cheek. "No, Jondy, we couldn't have saved them." Jondy's eyes closed briefly and she let her breath out, long and slow.
"Okay," she whispered in a voice shaking with both pain and relief; she
nodded, hugged herself and cried, nodded again. "Okay." She collapsed onto the
bed shakily, tears slipping down her cheeks. Syl draped an arm around her and
pulled her close, murmuring soft, reassuring words of comfort and love.
