Simoom Rising

Chapter Twenty-two

WAVE Orbiting Station
Now

DORIC

Lunch time. Mac had been called into the Ahluwalia's office. I had no idea whether that was good or bad for Ann. I was sitting eating a sandwich in the cafeteria, while she was left chained to the metal table in the interrogation room. Though I hadn't consciously let her out of that imaginary closet, I felt her stomach rumble as I bit into stale bread and mystery protein. It seemed I had very little telepathic control.

Will I ever have any privacy again?

I felt Ann sigh. We live in a world full of drone cameras. Did we ever have much privacy?

You know, I remember watching that news feed, Ann. I remember your face on the screen.

You saw it then?

Everyone saw it.

What did I...what did I look like?

I lowered my head and tried to stifle my laughter. You're being interrogated for murder, and that's what you're worried about?

Don't laugh. Tell me. No, don't tell me. It's ridiculous...No, tell me.

Well, you just looked like a glowing—

Rat?

Pretty much. It was your voice I remember the most. Strong, confident...

Even with all the time delays and stutters?

They edited that stuff out. It's amazing really considering the arguments going on in your head, but you sounded fierce, unwavering. You were wrong when you said you had no leverage against WAVE Corp. Those images of starving Pitters were a PR disaster for the company.

Something caught my eye. I looked up. Caraq just walked in the room.

Poor man. How's he look?

Gaunt. Stooped. What did you do to him, Ann?

Nothing.

Come on, clearly something happened.

Caraq was born above the dust. It was always blue sky for him, until the Pit, until the barricades went up, until he began to listen.

Oh, for God's sake, stop being cryptic. Caraq keeps looking at me, Ann. What does he want?

Have you asked him?

Yeah, but he was also cryptic. Kept saying "they" will try to stop me from finding the truth.

I spotted Mac and Ahluwalia in the doorway. When they saw me, they parted company. Ahluwalia lingered by the door to talk to another manager, while Mac walked unhurriedly toward the counter, took a tray and helped himself to the special of the day—some godawful deep-fried crap. Their stiff body language and poker faces told me something was up. They were aware of Caraq sitting at a table in a far corner, but Ahluwalia was pretending he hadn't noticed Caraq or me for that matter.  And Mac just looked right through Caraq. It occurred to me this was more than just awkward embarrassment about running into a disgraced colleague. All three men were acting strange.

Sandwich forgotten, I watched them. My breathing increased—and Harmony's breathing synched up with mine. Both of our hearts now sounding in my ears, I watched Mac pour himself another damn mocha, while Caraq looked at Mac with—what was it? Distrust? Hatred? And then Caraq glanced at Ahluwalia, still talking with this back to us to that manager in the doorway, and I saw fear in Caraq's eyes.