Wounds - Book 2 Read Free Page A

unit, yes, but they can only go so far. Anyway, Bashir is so different, I can’t see how he could be the one to—”
    “We both know that your patient is no random mutation. His story is shot through with lies. I can prove it.”
    She had a sinking feeling in her gut. This was precisely what she’d been afraid would happen. “The fMRI? In your dreams. His brain’s so different, it won’t work.” A lie. The fMRI would prove Bashir a liar, and that was only the first step down a road that could only end in a place she didn’t want to be again.
    Blate said, “I disagree. You will run the scans in a week’s time. Only I will ask the questions, not you.”
    “And why a week?”
    “Because General Nerrit’s quite interested.”
    Arin muttered a curse. She felt dizzy. A week didn’t give her much time…and to do what, exactly?
    Because you believed in this once. Else why keep on with the work? Why keep separating the primates to see if maybe you’ve cracked it? Because we’re dying, that’s why; if I can’t take this further, do something…
    “Well, we’ll certainly look forward to seeing the general again,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “You said there was something else?”
    “Yes,” said Blate. “I thought you might like to know what we determined about Bashir’s very interesting suit. An amazing bit of technology. It’s designed to provide air, pressure, and temperature control. It’s got a battery pack that we don’t understand and a novel form of computer integration my people can’t crack. We know that the Jabari and the other Outliers don’t possess this technology. We certainly don’t.” He paused. “Tell me, Colonel, have you ever seen a machine that flies?”
    She was confused. “You mean, other than a propellant grenade? No. No one has. We can’t…it’s not possible.”
    “Mmmm. What if I told you that Bashir’s suit flies?”
    She was so stunned she couldn’t speak for a moment. “Fly? You mean, off the ground, through the air?”
    “Yes. The suit is designed for flight. We think only for a limited period, you understand, and it seems that the suit would function better with less friction. But this thing could fly.”
    “But… no one flies,” Kahayn said, stupidly. “No one knows how.”
    “Not precisely, Colonel. We did know once, didn’t we?”
    “But that’s all ancient history, Blate. After the Cataclysm, the ban…”
    “Prohibits development and so on and so forth; I know, Colonel. But that would explain much, wouldn’t it? How, after all, did Bashir get inside the perimeter? There is no other way except by underground tram, and he’d have needed a pass which, I think we can agree, he didn’t possess. But this suit flies, Colonel. That’s troubling, don’t you think? What are the chances that a people this advanced live in some idyllic country we’ve never heard of?”
    She said nothing.
    “Yes, I’d thought you’d agree. So,” Blate said, ticking the items off on his fingers, “Bashir’s suit provides for pressure, air, heat, propulsion, and also, we think, communications. Everything you would need.”
    Her heart was hammering so hard she felt the rhythmic pounding, like a timpani drum, in her temples. “For what?”
    “Why, for traveling in space, Colonel.” Blate folded his hands upon his desk and gave Kahayn a beatific smile uglier than a snarl. “It has everything you would need for space.”

    After Blate rang off, Kahayn and Arin stared at each other. Neither spoke for a long time. Then Arin stirred. “You don’t have to do this. You have a choice.”
    Kahayn pulled in a deep breath. “No.”
    Arin frowned over his glasses. “No, what? No, you won’t do it, or…?”
    “I mean, no, I don’t have a choice. We have to do something, Arin.”
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah, or we’re all gonna die.” Arin chewed on the inside of his cheek. Then he jammed his glasses back into place. “Explain something to me. We go