Chapter 10

Mal walked stiffly off the train, Zoë in tow, eyes firmly on River. Her skin was pale and smeared with ash and sweat. Broken twigs clung to her hair and clothes and she didn’t have any shoes on her feet. Someone had thought to put those blue hospital footies on her, but the heel was spotted with blood, and her entire body trembled.

“Wo de tian, a,” Mal breathed. “What have they done to her?”

Despite looking sickly, she and half a dozen others were busy loading hard-shell, climate controlled cases onto the ship. The cases were marked as biohazards. The room was pristine white and hexagonal, with one entirely glass wall separating the inside from the railway tracks. On the opposite wall was the only other exit from the place. Along the left walls were shelves and refrigerators and along the right were computers. A small space ship stood dead-center, tipped upward so that the coned nose faced a closed hatch. A curved conveyer belt and ramp led to the entrance mid-ship, bypassing the standard fold-out stairs. The ship was a mid-range, small charter that wouldn’t seat more than nine people and wouldn’t carry them farther than a few moons away. It was painted and stenciled for use by the wealthy and elite, and Mal resented it as a senseless luxury item in a destitute ‘verse.

Zoë tapped Mal’s arm, and led him to a computer station that had read-out stats from the vessel’s various take-off controls and onboard refrigeration system. Standing squarely in front of the station, Zoë picked up a clipboard, and then leaned in to talk to Mal in a low voice.

“The others workers look fine,” Zoë whispered. “I don’t think Aunt River’s condition is an effect of the possession. She probably has smoke inhalation, moderate exposure to the elements, severe drug withdrawal… I suppose whoever is controlling her can choose not to feel those things.”

Mal glanced back at River, worried. “That choice aside, a body will keel on its own accord in that condition. Would we be able to tell if she were already …”

He t