Chapter 11:
Not Clara. The two words rang through Renall’s skull. Gratitude hit. She was not the cycle spy. That only left the seamstress and her daughters. And he doubted it was any of them. Maybe it had been the one with low rot. That would make sense. The implants took on differing effects depending on the person.
However, his relief was tempered by sorrow. Dana sat in a chair. She had been gassed and her chip removed, as had her daughter Lois. The other daughter was working a shift and not yet available. Not that they needed her.
They had their cycle spy.
Lois.
The poor simple-minded girl was the cycle spy.
They had discovered too late that the chip had a self-destruct button. That button had been set off by Marik when he had attempted to remove the chip. The fluid he had retrieved had been a perfect match, but even without it, they would have known.
Lois kicked her way off the bed. Her brain was shutting down and all of her systems out of line. She walked and fell; garbled words and syllables came from her mouth. Her nose bled.
Renall’s heart wrenched with pity. He said, “Marik, can you not give her more gas?”
Marik said, “I gave her beyond the lethal dose. There must be some kind of mechanics involved as well. It seems whoever did this to her wanted her to suffer, even in death. It is…unfortunate, but I cannot do more. Unless you want me to inject her with the chloride.”
Did he want that? The chloride gave off a quick death but a brutally painful one. How long could her body continue? How much pain was she already in? Would the chloride hasten her death at all and would the pain be even greater if he ordered it?
He would have to order it. Marik would never. It went against everything he believed in as a healer. Jeval wouldn’t, not because he lacked sympathy but because he was more used to killing in battle than killing coldly and he would shrink from that, and Talon had gone to Dana’s side to check her vitals and to try to avoid the sight of the shrieking and writhing woman on the floor.
Once upon a time, Renall had been possessed of ruthlessness. They all had. Talon still retained that ruthlessness, but the rest of them had had that whittled down to a smaller degree. Even Talon’s ruthlessness did not extend to coldly killing a woman.
Renall knew they would wait it out or wait for him to order that death. He had done it before. Ordered the cold executions of innocents. Had killed innocents himself, in fact. That had been when he had been young and angry, and he had never forgiven himself for those things. They, he and his siblings, had made a pact to kill only when they had to, and when they were in real danger. This order would not break that pact, but the weight would be on his shoulders.
There was a tap at the door. He ignored it. Then the door opened, and Clara walked in. She looked from him to the young woman on the floor. Her face went dark. She screamed, “What are you doing to her!”
She flew at him with her fists up and rage written all over her face. She caught him on the tip of his chin with one fist; the blow was glancing, and he caught her hands. “Clara, stop.”
“No! You’re killing her! What are you doing?”
He caught her hands. He swung her closer to him. “Stop.” His arms wrapped around her body. His body instantly reacted as soon as her bottom hit his crotch. He grit his teeth. “It is not anything we did to her. She has been used; a cycle spy.”
Clara went limp from the shock of his words. She whispered, “No. That is forbidden!”
He understood her denial. He had hoped to deny it as well. He said, “It is true. Look at her. You can see it.”
Clara cried out, “Help her then! Why are you just standing here watching her die like that?”
Her guts were the first thing he had noticed about her, and they impressed him now too. She was strong and brave and ready to take on the whole world if need be. She would fight for what she believed in. She would fight for her life too. She was a creature so unlike any he had ever known, and he didn’t want to let her go. Not ever.
