This Shattered World (Starbound #2)(32)
“There was a guy at Molly Malone’s, and he had a gun. It all happened so fast, I didn’t get a good look at his face. He knocked me out when we got outside.”
“Tell me what you do remember about him. Young or old? Strong or weak? Any dominant racial traits?”
“Strong,” I say, picking the most harmless of the questions to answer.
“Did you learn anything at all about who he was?”
My stomach lurches. If I tell her that Orla Cormac’s brother is out there, alive and among the Fianna, they’ll never stop searching for him. “Not really, no.” My voice sounds steady. “He and the others were careful not to use names.”
“Is the one who took you responsible for your injuries?”
My gaze wants to drag itself across to the winking green light on the recorder, waiting to catch me out. I force myself to focus on Commander Towers. “No, that was later. I think I was in a cave. One of them beat me.” I move my arm so I can rest my hand briefly over my ribs. “They kept me a few days, until they decided for some reason to move me. I figured that was my only chance, and I got the jump on the guys escorting me. Stole a boat, managed to get it most of the way back before it ran out of gas, and I walked the rest of the way.”
“Slow down. Is the cave the next location you remember?” Her gaze is intent. “Take me through it chronologically.”
My head’s aching, and it feels like wading through syrup as I rifle through the options. Every lie I tell carries me deeper, makes it harder to think of all the ways they might be able to catch me. They might have had a visual on his boat leaving and know which way we went. This is what I get for lying for a rebel. “No, before we went to the cave he took me east.”
“Did he say why?” Now she shifts her weight forward in her chair, and I know I’m not imagining the fact that she’s more alert, focused on the smallest shift in my face.
I try to shrug, and my ribs send a lance of pain up my side to protest that idea. “He thought there was some kind of military installation out that way, but I didn’t know of any.”
The risk of what I’m about to do makes my head spin like I’m doing an air-drop without a chute. But if there’s even a chance she’ll answer the questions churning in my brain, I have to take the leap. “Though my platoon’s never been assigned patrol in that sector—maybe there is something out there that I didn’t know about.” I can almost feel that ident chip in my pocket, burning a hole against my thigh.
Commander Towers hasn’t moved, eyes still on my face. I school my expression, trying to remember what polite inquiry would look like. Am I too blank? Should I raise my brows? Smile? My heartbeat is too loud, and I’m nearly as dizzy as I was when I collapsed on the island. The moment stretches into an eternity, me gazing at my commander and her gazing back.
Abruptly she reaches out for the recorder, switching it off but keeping her eyes on her fingers.
My heart stops; she’s caught me. She’s turning off the recorder because she’s about to call for security to haul me down to lockup. “Commander—”
Her head snaps up, lips twisting into what’s clearly meant to be a reassuring smile. “Thank you, Captain. I’ve heard enough.”
I blink, trying to sit up despite the dull, painful protest of my ribs. “But the rest of my account?”
She gives the recorder a little shake, her half smile turning wry. “There’s enough here to satisfy the higher-ups. You need rest more than you need a debrief.” Her cheek twitches minutely, a sign her jaw’s carrying some tension. “Rest up, Chase. We need you back.”
I ought to feel relieved. No more questions, no more chance my actions will be discovered. But Commander Towers has been here nearly as long as I have, and I know her well enough to see she’s troubled.
She misinterprets my expression and reaches out to lay her hand on mine. Her skin is cool and dry, and I know she’s going to feel the flush of betrayal and lies the moment she touches me. But instead she just gazes at me. “You did good, Lee. I don’t think most soldiers would’ve made it back. Take some time off, get yourself together—and then get back to work.”
When she’s gone, I let myself melt back against the cot, trying to find a comfortable position, listening to the fibers creak as if in answer to my creaky ribs. I can’t remember the last time I disobeyed orders, much less outright lied to my commanding officer. And yet, I’m not the only one. It can’t be a coincidence Commander Towers shut down my debrief when I mentioned the sector to the east.
But believing that would mean believing Cormac’s insane conspiracy theories. Might mean believing I actually saw more than a hallucination in the moments before passing out.
My thoughts turn in frantic circles, the room spinning away around me as though all laws of gravity and physics have abandoned me along with my principles.
I can’t afford to lie here, letting uncertainty overpower me. Captain Lee Chase doesn’t get confused. She doesn’t hesitate, she doesn’t think twice.
I force myself upright again, swinging my legs over the edge of the cot and swallowing down the nausea pushing bile up in my throat and making it burn.
A light breeze wafts in through the window, carrying with it the earthy, peat-sulfur smell of the swamp. One nice thing about Avon: it’s too young to have a thriving insect population. No screens on the windows. The hospital is more centrally located, but I’m in a halfway house, one of the temporary buildings erected to deal with the greater numbers of minor illnesses and collapses that afflict newcomers to this environment. On this side of the building, the small, square windows overlook the swamp, only the perimeter fence between it and the wilderness.