Rift Read Free Page B

years.” He closed his eyes a moment, stifling a moan. Then: “Bonhert didn’t want us to tell. Didn’t want the damn Reterraformers to make converts of the new ship’s crew … persuade them to stay … so we kept it secret.”
    Ship
? Reeve bent in closer, concentrating.
Ship, did he say?
    Eyes still closed, Grame’s voice came more faintly: “They might want to stay, see? Lots of people are afraid of the stars, Reeve, don’t want to drift out there in space. People think, let’s stay on Lithia and get her whipped back into shape, but Lithia, she’s a goner, Reeve. We—all the science team—we knew we couldn’t fix Lithia.”
    “But the geo project!”
    “No, no, just a front. To cover our tracks.” A spume of blood gushed from the man’s mouth, and he took several desperate breaths. His words came out in a harsh whisper: “Just … a front. We were working on Bonhert’s scheme. To kill her, so the ship wouldn’t stay.”
    “Kill who?”
    “Lithia, you damn fool, Lithia …” His voice was so faint now that Reeve had to bend close. Grame’s breath was dreadful.
    “Kill Lithia?”
    “With the mole. It’s the only way. So the ship’ll take us … rid of this hellhole for good. Just never tell … the ship’s people.” His eyes grew bright for a moment. “We got to kill her … but, see, they might not think so. So promise … you’ll never tell.”
    Reeve opened his mouth to promise, but instead he asked, “Where is Bonhert?”
    Grame had slumped over. Reeve bent closer to his face.
    “The Rift,” Grame whispered. “The Rift …”
    “Where we were going to set up terraforming?”
    Grame nodded. The words came out on his fetid breath: “That’s it.… Get there, Reeve.… Save yourself.” He sucked his breath in like he couldn’t get enough. He was bleeding to death, and nothing could save him.
    The scrawny bird flew to a gash in the top of the shuttle, pausing on the ripped hull, then flying off. Reeve closed his eyes a moment, allowing weariness to enfold him. He heard layer upon layer of sound: the gentle susurration of wind through the nets of hanging moss, the chirping and whistling of a few birds and … a distant shout.
    Reeve’s attention snapped back in an instant. He clambered outside, trying to identify where the noise came from, but the voices filtered in from all sides.Grame, my God, Grame was still alive.… But clavers were closing in. He couldn’t carry both Grame and Marie. He began backing up, away from the shuttle, and then turned and ran. Where was Marie, where had he left her? He ran on, splashing through the water, then saw the small hillock of mud and Marie waiting there. He scrambled over to her, shouldering the pack and whispering, “Clavers. We’ve got to get away from here. Can you walk?”
    Lord, he was abandoning Grame. He’d made his decision, an ugly one. Helping Marie to her feet, he used a branch to obscure their footprints as they staggered backward into the shallow water. The voices were clear now, dozens of clavers shouting, but still muffled in the distance. He and Marie set out, away from the shuttle, moving as fast as they could, with Marie leaning on Reeve’s arm. The marsh went on and on, trees beyond trees, until in the distance all merged into green-black muck. Slogging on, he searched for any place that could offer shelter or camouflage, but it was all water, moss, and spindly trees.
    In another moment the voices rose in excited clamor, announcing that the clavers had found the shuttle. An eerie ululation pierced the swamp, sending a new chill to Reeve’s heart. He had never heard a scream like that in all his by-the-book, ordered Station life. Finding a large stump of a tree, he and Marie huddled together, afraid to move. He could see vague movements by the shuttle, but it was impossible to judge numbers through the webs of moss. Then again, whether there were four or forty, it hardly mattered—he and Marie were