Page 10 of Escape from Nova Nine
She dropped off her pad, then was surprised to see Lantham and Sutrio waiting for her near the open door instead of queuing up for the walk to the dining hall. She let several prisoners go by her before stepping close to Sutrio. “Not hungry?”
Sutrio’s eyes went a little jittery as she shook her head. “I’m eating for two.”
Instant remorse lanced through Julke. She’d been so caught up in making sure Lunaso got along that she’d forgotten Sutrio was still carrying the injured griffin. “I’ll take it.”
“Her,” corrected Sutrio. “She’s fine with me. Just give me cover.”
“What is she?” asked Lunaso.
Julke twitched, startled by Lunaso’s quiet approach. She ordered herself to pay better attention.
Both Lantham and Sutrio looked away, leaving the decision to her.
Lunaso could be a spy. A wily spy would do something like ingratiate himself with the prisoners, such as taking a stunner shot meant for one of them. On the other hand, Dajoya was unholy chaos in a mech suit and couldn't play-act for shit. Plus, all the previous spies the warden had sent were exposed within hours. Nova Nine used minders as workers because they were easier to catch and no one important missed them. Spies were no match for a prison population full of mental talents.
Julke rarely activated hers. She’d convinced the warden’s intake interrogators she was only a filer with a smidgeon of empathy. Using any other talent might prompt any nearby sifters to deliver her to the warden’s elite interrogation team for a more thorough evaluation. She’d give them a fight, but had no doubt they’d eventually pry her brain open like a griffin’s eggshell.
But right now, she was the best person around to get a calibration on Lunaso. She fought the after-effects of the stun shot to cautiously activate her empathy talent. Lantham was sad and depressed as usual, and Sutrio was like a miscalibrated flux drive engine with emotions spiking randomly. Lunaso was bewildered, scared, and lonely. And an empath.
His talent rose to meet hers. For a brief moment, the entrancing warmth of his essence danced with hers. His gold-brown eyes seemed to draw her in.
Alarmed, she slammed a lock on her talent and made herself step back, clearing her throat. He might be a danger to her, but very likely not a spy. “In answer to your question, she’s a griffin.”
His eyes widened. “The miniature-lion-with-wings kind? When Lhap Cho and Dajoya took me to meet you, she shot at one with her beamer.”
“In the tunnels?” Lantham swore a vicious oath. “She’s a blowout waiting to happen.”
Lunaso edged closer. “Can I help?”
Julke instinctively wanted to trust him. But then again, trusting a man had landed her in Nova Nine. Still, building mutual trust with all the other prisoners — and griffins — had kept her alive so far.
She caught Sutrio’s eye and spoke quietly. “They’ll have put Lunaso in our cell cluster. If you both skip dinner, I’ll smuggle food for two.” She tilted her chin toward Sutrio’s middle. “Two and a half.”
Lunaso cleared his throat. “Call me Zade. I was raised in a group home. I have, er, smuggling experience.” His fingers waved in a quick, subtle fan.
Julke had heard that the five hundred member planets of the Central Galactic Concordance had a lot of homes like those. Her people used them to frighten wayward children into behaving.
She looked to Sutrio. “You good?”
“Yes.” Her friend’s eyes jittered. “Bring me dense protein. Seaweed-rice. Chocolate.”
Julke hoped Sutrio was communing with the hidden griffin and not about to go off the rails, as had been happening to her more often lately. “Deal.”
Lantham nudged Sutrio’s elbow with his. “Want company?”
“No, go eat.” A smile ghosted across her face. “You can be their lookout.”
At the guard station, Sutrio split off to join the small group being escorted to the cells. Julke, Lantham, and Zade were the last to join the much larger group headed for the dining hall.
Prisoners weren’t supposed to talk during transfers, but most guards ignored quiet conversations. Since they weren’t being monitored, Julke took the opportunity to tell Zade a few truths that weren’t in the prisoner orientation vids.
“The tunnels are a chaotic labyrinth. Don’t go in them without safety equipment, and don’t ever go alone. Getting lost is the number two killer of noobs. Our exosuits don’t have maps like the guards’ mech suits do. The Security Operations Center only activates a suit’s trace-tracker if they know you’re missing, and they’re only good for about thirty meters. You’ll die of thirst before anyone ever finds you.”
Zade nodded and scratched the back of his smooth head.
She spoke fast. “We can talk here, but watch what you say when your exosuit helmet is sealed. All comms are actively monitored by AI and humans. So are processing facility workstations. The guards will stun you if you speak in anything besides Standard English while on official comms, especially if the warden is around.”
“No problem,” said Zade. “That’s my primary language. But why do stunners work when we’re wearing exosuits?”
