This Shattered World (Starbound #2)(98)
The air shimmers before me, and I let myself close my eyes for just a second, pain creeping in at my temples. My whole body’s starting to protest, shoulders aching where the harness cut into them, gut still settling after our wild ride. I wait until the pain dims a couple of degrees.
Don’t trust what you see, Lilac LaRoux said. I dredge up the memory of the facility again. Then I open my eyes and there’s a chain-link fence a foot in front of me.
I jerk to a stop, and a second later Jubilee walks face-first into it. It clangs and rattles, shedding droplets of condensed fog in a glittering shower. We both freeze, waiting for a sound in the swamp behind us or a shout from within the compound. Seconds tick by, and as though we’ve turned a key, the rest of the fence slowly materializes, and a clump of prefab buildings behind it. The shimmering’s gone, and the air in front of us is clear.
“Son of a—” Jubilee swallows down her protest, lifting a hand to swipe the water from her face. “Stopped just in time, but you couldn’t warn me?” But her mouth’s quirking, and despite everything, I want to snicker.
I take a step back, trying to follow the perimeter of the fence in the darkness. “That tower—is it a security checkpoint?” I point to a low, squat blackness some distance away.
Jubilee shakes her head, eyes lifted. “It’s a communications tower—see the satellite dishes? But they’ll have an alarm system there too, and there are floodlights on every fence post. We go near that tower and get spotted, they’ll light this place up like a parade route and we’ll have nowhere to run.”
“I could try to make a hole up here, then, the way we do on your base to sneak in.”
Jubilee just rolls her eyes at me. She drops my hand and takes three steps back, staring up at the fence, which has to be at least four meters high. Then she runs at it, using her momentum to clamber to the top in seconds, swinging a leg over and leaning down to wink. “Hurry up, then. Need a hand?” Faced with a task she knows, she’s every inch the soldier, grinning and self-assured. I would have hated her for it such a short time ago, but now her smile’s familiar.
My grin matches hers as I climb up after her, and for a moment it’s like being with my friends when we were kids, seeing who could scale the highest spire of rock. We get only a few seconds to revel in our small victory. Then there’s a sharp whistle out in the fog, and my heart leaps. “That’s the alert,” I say, translating the Fianna’s signal for her. “They’ve found our boat.”
Jubilee’s smile vanishes, and once more we’re fighting for our lives. “Let’s go.”
The facility seems to be almost empty, at least from the outside. Once we see a figure in night vision goggles disappearing around the corner of a building, but though we crouch and wait, the guard doesn’t return.
Keeping to the shadows, we make for the nearest door to the main building, only to find it locked tight. If this were a normal facility it’d be print-coded with the latest security—but print-coding would leave a record of the people who’ve accessed the place. Instead the handles are the low-tech kind, requiring manual keys. I feel around the door frame, but we’re not lucky enough for someone to have stashed a key somewhere. Instead we’re forced to make our way along the wall, testing the windows until we find one that Jubilee’s able to pop open with a dull thunk of her elbow against the frame.
The small room we climb into is empty but for a few supply cabinets; we’ve entered through some kind of storeroom. When we slip out into the hallway, muddy footprints mark the floor, telling us people were here recently. Beyond the room is a series of hallways, but a faint trail of dirt shows which path is most traversed. Jubilee takes point down the corridor, and I move silently after her, ears straining for any sign of life. My heart’s beating too fast, and I can feel a corresponding pulse in my head. There’s no sign of the wisp; our guide, for better or for worse, is gone.
Jubilee stops at the first corner, easing her head out to check that the way ahead is empty. Lifting her hand, she jerks two fingers to bid me follow and eases forward again.
The facility is laid out like a maze, but the paths and doors are labeled. We reach a branching corridor, and I tap my finger against a sign with an arrow that reads MAIN CONTROL ROOM. Jubilee nods; from there we might be able to get an idea as to the layout of this place and find some sort of records room or computer access.
A few doors feature glass panes, revealing unrecognizable equipment and fully stocked laboratories beyond them. Some are occupied by white-coated scientists, and we’re quick to move past those. True, we could grab one or two of them to interrogate, but there’s no guarantee that they even know who they’re working for. We need hard evidence.
On one group of researchers, my eyes linger. They’re gathered around a man’s body laid out on a table. He still wears his camouflage trousers and military boots, and the scientists are gathered around his head. When one of them moves to retrieve a tool from a nearby tray, I can see that the whole top of his skull has been removed; the scientists are carefully removing pieces of his brain, laying them out in a neatly labeled row. A glance at Jubilee tells me she’s as tense as I am, her shoulders drawn in tight. But we can’t help him now, we both know that.
Our path leads to a door marked MAIN CONTROL ROOM, and Jubilee pauses to look back at me. I’m watching her eyes, checking her pupils, looking for that vacant hint that will tell me she’s under the influence of the whispers, but I’ve never seen it happen like she has. I don’t know what I’m looking for, and it’s keeping me sick with tension.