Into the No-Zone. Eugene Lambert
the door slams shut behind her, the guards left inside shove us towards the bench along the wall. A minute ago I’d have shoved back to spite them. Now I can’t be bothered. I’m more interested in hearing what my wounded brother has to say.
‘What happened?’ I ask him. ‘A guy said three masked shooters burst into our tent and then opened up with blasters.’
Colm nurses his bandaged arm and nods.
‘I was half asleep. The tent flap lifts and some guys barge inside. Next thing I know they’re blasting the hell out of your bunk.’
I stare at him, appalled. ‘So what did you do?’
‘They shot up my bunk next.’ A painful smile tugs at my brother’s lips. ‘Only I’d got such a fright when the shooting started I’d already fallen off it. It was lights-out and dark inside. With all the blasting, maybe the shooters dazzled themselves. My pulse rifle was still up on my bunk, so I cleared off as fast as I could. They came after me, but by then our guys were shooting back.’
I can’t help glancing at his bandaged arm. Rona’s handiwork.
‘I got lucky,’ he says. ‘Four of our mates were killed in the crossfire, more injured. It was a slaughterhouse.’
‘Who did this?’ I splutter. ‘And why? I don’t understand.’
‘Me neither. But . . .’ He takes a deep breath, sighs it out. ‘My first thought was that Slayers had somehow tracked us down and sent in a suicide squad to take us out. For revenge, or to teach us a lesson, like even out here in the Deeps nobody’s safe. Only before I was taken away, I got a good look at the shooters. They were Gemini fighters. I’ve seen them around. And before you ask, it wasn’t Stauffer or any of his thug mates.’
Colm’s words stomp about in my head, but make no sense.
‘You’re saying our own guys tried to kill us?’
He nods. ‘And it was definitely us they were after. They came straight to our bunks. It was a hit. We were the target.’
‘Why?’ I say, dry-mouthed.
‘I don’t know. Lucky you weren’t in your bunk, huh?’
‘Too right.’ I shiver. And now I finally remember that I’ve got my own big news to share. I tell Colm about how I saw the windjammer land and the black-clad passenger it unloaded.
‘Ballard brought a Slayer here ?’ he says, rocking back and chewing his lip. ‘Guess the peace deal must be on then.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’
‘So when did the jammer land?’
I think back. ‘Not long before the shooting started.’
Colm nods and pulls what I call his serious-thinking face.
Which sets me thinking too. ‘Coincidence?’
‘Could be,’ he says, but really slow, like he doesn’t believe it.
I glance at our guards. They’re still all watching us, unblinking, unmoving, as if carved out of stone. I’d figured we’d been stuck in here for our protection. Now I’m starting to doubt. These guys are doing a great job of making me feel more like a prisoner.
‘Wonder how long they’ll keep us in here?’ I say to Colm.
He sits on the bench, swings his feet up and stretches out. ‘Who knows? We should get some rest.’
‘Hey, what about me?’
But my brother’s eyes are closed already, and he looks so destroyed I haven’t the heart to make him shift.
I settle for the dirt floor. It’s as uncomfortable as it looks.
Without windows in here it’s only a guess, but based on how stiff I feel after hours of squirming around on hard-packed dirt, I reckon it’s early morning when they come for us.
We each get a beaker of water and a biscuit to munch as we’re marched along one rock-hewn corridor after another, minded by a dozen or so heavily armed guards. Finally, we’re shoved into a room where Ballard is waiting, sitting behind a massive round table. His wire-framed glasses reflect the glowtubes so I can’t see his eyes, but his lined face is one big frown. I’d hoped Rona would be there too. She isn’t. The only friendly face belongs to Scallon, the senior healer woman who pulled that bolt out of me back in Bastion. She gets up, greets us and shows us to a couple of spare seats.
‘Why are we here?’ I whisper.
And wish I hadn’t as her face falls.
‘You’ll see,’ she says, and returns to her seat.
I glance around the room. Apart from Scallon and Ballard and some watchful guards, there are two other people here, both seated at the table. Like Ballard, they wear the long grey cloaks of Gemini Council members. The tall black woman is Mendela, Defence Commander of this Deeps outpost. The irritable-looking plump man with the savagely pockmarked face I‘ve never seen before.
‘So there they are,’ fat guy says.
He inspects Colm and me, a look on his face like we’re pieces of fruit to choose between and both of us seem rotten.
‘Hard to believe,’ Mendela says, ‘it all hangs on these two boys.’
I swap glances with Colm. He looks worried too.
Ballard stands up, waving away a guard who leaps forward to try and help him. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. He looks tired, like he didn’t get much sleep last night either.
‘Kyle, Colm,’ he says, blinking at us. ‘You must be wondering –’
Fat guy slams his hand on the table and interrupts angrily, chins wobbling. ‘For Wrath’s sake, Ballard, you’re wasting time we haven’t got. We have important things to discuss.’
Ballard stiffens. ‘We do, Councillor Schroeder. But first I think we owe these boys an explanation.’
Schroeder glares at us and snorts, sending spit flying.
Well, I can do angry too. I jump up. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
I expect to be shouted at, but Commander Mendela smiles. Not Ballard though. He looks like he’s in pain.
‘Sit down, son,’ Mendela says. ‘We like defiant, but we’ve got something to tell you and you would do well to listen.’
I swallow and sit down again, feeling more than a bit stupid.
Ballard clears his throat. ‘As Councillor Schroeder says, the Council has much to discuss, so I’ll be brief.’ He puts his glasses back on and his gaze settles on me. My head pounds and blood hisses in my ears like static. ‘You boys will, I’m sure, have heard the rumours of a peace treaty between us and the Slayers.’
I nod, not trusting my voice. So does Colm.
‘Well, the rumours are true,’ Ballard continues. ‘If Gemini ceases fighting and we withdraw our forces to the Barrenlands, in return the Saviour will grant us a sanctuary out there.’
‘So tempting.’ Mendela’s voice is thick with sarcasm.
Ballard sighs. ‘As you might expect, the peace offer comes with many strings attached. Ident children must still be handed over and held in camps. Instead of Peace Fairs, as soon as nubloods are identified they will be returned to us in our Barrenlands paradise.’ He sighs deeply. ‘However, the strongest of them will first be required to do two years’ service down darkblende mines. After completing this, they too will be returned.’
‘If they survive the two years,’ Scallon says.
‘Be quiet!’ Schroeder snaps.
I shake my head, dazed, struggling to take this in. Two years down