Page 58 of Vicious
She watched them curl off my lips as understanding dawned, and she released me to shove at the doors. But somehow when the light had faded, we’d passed through them to the other side. We were inside the space station now with the sounds of bustling activity slowly funneling to my ears as if through densecotton.
None of the doors budged as Poh pushed and pulled. Even Crispin tried, his lightning eyes pinched at the corners. I scuttled on my hands and knees across the floor toward one and flattened my back against it, my panic threatening to cave me in, and shifted my gaze to the spacestation.
One wide hallway stretched in front of me, and another branched to the left. People of all ages rushed past us, bundling themselves tighter into their coats, their breaths steaming from their mouths, yet otherwise oblivious to the cold. Signs and arrows lit the gleaming white floor, guiding some into little shops tucked along the wall, to food stands with brightly colored umbrellas, or to a merry-go-round that chirped happy music at the far end of thehallway.
The high ceiling soared above, and seemingly suspended in midair were large iron rings hung equal distances apart down the length of the long, upward-slanted hallway to the left. At the end and through the large window was the real iron ring. The rings over our heads must’ve been slightly different sizes for forced perception, making the real ring appear much closer than it really was, as if it were bending space right this second. The whole optical illusion simultaneously made me want to hurl my tongue at the ring hanging above our heads and spun my stomach, so I lookedaway.
Other than the crowd’s cold exhales, everything appeared normal. But the smell of blood hung in the air, thick and heavy, and bristled under my skin. Something had happened here. Something awful. And whatever it had been stilllingered.
AnInformation Desksign shimmered along the floor in front ofus.
“Let’s find out why these doors won’t open.” Poh helped haul me to my feet, grasped Crispin by the arm, and led us in the same direction as the arrows that glowed at ourfeet.
Behind a tall desk at the apex of the two hallways, a woman of about sixty stood, wearing a silver, tailored suit that matched her bobbed hair. She spoke to a man wearing a similar get-up and a bow tie. Behind them, a clear spiral staircase stretched up toward the rings, and winding up it was another bot that didn’t miss a step. At the top, it rolled across a grid of narrow platforms between the rings, all of them clear, I supposed, so they wouldn’t detract from the ring opticalillusion.
Poh stalked us forward and slapped her hand hard on the desk to get the employees’ attention. They looked at her andfrowned.
“Can we help you?” the manasked.
“Why won’t those doors open?” Poh jutted her thumb behindher.
Wrinkles fanned across the woman’s temples from the outer corners of her eyes even though she didn’t smile. “A temporaryglitch.”
The man nodded toward the way we came. “The bots will get them working again in notime.”
We turned. Sure enough, the bots were rolling along the wall of doors. Red and blue lights pulsed from inside their thumb-shaped bodies, triggering my sense of emergency. Why wasn’t anyone else attempting to exit or complaining that the doors wouldn’topen?
I whipped around to face the desk again. “Howlong?”
“Not too long,” hesaid.
We were trapped, then. Minus my iron on a spotless, blood-tainted space station that housed something off enough to rattle mybones.
“Feel free to look around while you wait,” the woman said. “We have maps of the station if you’re looking for something specific. If you head left, you’ll find an excellent view of Station 144’s ring. It’s quite wondrous ifyou—”
“I want to turn her in.” Poh nodded toward me. “She’s a fugitive with a cash cow for a bounty, and I want tocollect.”
My stomach twisted as I slowly turned my head to stare at her. She sold her part a little too well, blurring the line between what was real and what was all part of theplan.
The woman’s gaze slid to me, and her mouth pinched into a thin, judgmental line. “Police are to theleft.”
“No, no.” Poh scooted in closer, dragging Crispin along behind her. “I have direct orders to turn this one in to someone from the Ring Guild. Don Summertack is his name. Director of ring operations. Just tell me where his office is, and we’ll be on ourway.”
“Our superiors are busy doing their jobs.” The man shook his head. “They have no interest infugitives.”
Pretty sure they did, though they likely didn’t share just how much witheveryone.
“Police are to the left.” The woman started to turnaway.
“I wasn’t asking,” Poh hissed. “Tell me where Don Summertackis.”
The man came around the tall desk and gazed down at Poh. “Police are to the left. Or I can call them for you to escort youaway.”
Poh threw up one hand to stop him. “You’ve made yourpoint.”
"Enjoy your stay on Station 144," the woman said, but judging from her clipped voice, I wasn't so sure she meantit.
Poh tugged at Crispin and led us a few feet away. “So it turns out police are to theleft.”
