Page 90 of Skinwalker's Bane
Devin looked at him. “For stars’ sake, Sauber—this is not the time for a political speech. People are hurting out there and it’s your fault.” The sound enhancers picked up her voice and spread it. She could hear gasps of surprise and shock from the people nearest the stage.
Devin pointed at Sauber. “You’re a Caver. Youplannedthis…this travesty!”
“She lies!” Sauber shouted, looking out at the crowd. “She’s nobody! She is trying to score points off me for her own personal gain.”
Magorian stepped in between them, facing Sauber. His hands were bloody. “You did this? You killed Zsoka? Just so you could sit in the Captain’s chair?”
Sauber shook his head. “No one should sit in the Captain’s chair! No one should have that power!”
This time the wave of gasps and shocks spread farther. Everyone was listening and watching, now.
Sauber looked around, licking his lips. He realized what he had done, that he had branded himself a Caver. He had condemned himself.
Magorian took a step forward and punched Sauber in the stomach. His fist drove deep and Sauber folded over Magorian’s arm with a sickly moan.
Magorian pulled his arm away and Sauber landed on the stage with an impact that made the temporary structure shudder. He lay still, gasping and wheezing.
Magorian whirled and came over to Devin. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Send everyone home, Devin,” he said quietly, although the sound system picked his voice up anyway. “Everyone needs time to think.” He glanced at the Captain’s body. “To mourn,” he added and patted her shoulder, leaving a bloody smear. Then he turned and went back to crouch next to his Captain.
Devin glanced at the skinwalkers. They were all watching. Adam nodded encouragement.
So she faced the Meadow once more. “If you didn’t hear the Chief of Staff, Masud Magorian, he said that everyone should go home. Rest and recover. Tomorrow, go back to work, for the task of keeping theEndurancerunning smoothly cannot be left unattended for too long. Go back to your lives and we will sort this out.”
Someone clapped, somewhere in the middle of the crowd.
“Yes,” Devin said in agreement. “Yes, we need to appreciate what we have. What we very nearly lost here today.”
The clapping grew louder. It caught fire and spread, just as the fighting had done, and just as the calm had rippled out over the Meadow.
Devin lifted her voice above the sound. “Look around, everyone! We are theEnduranceand we will live up to that name!”
The applause grew thunderous.
It was time to withdraw. Her job was done. Devin turned back to the skinwalkers. Adam held out his arms and she flowed into them and held him tightly, her trembling growing. Haydn patted her back and Noa her arm. “You were brilliant!” Noa breathed.
Adam tucked her hair out of the way, easing it behind her shoulder and looking at her temple. “Let me take you home and take care of that.”
“Yes, please,” Devin said with a sigh.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Devin wasn’t sure if she slept or if the concoction Anar Bader had authorized her terminal to print out for her and that Adam had made her drink did something to steal her consciousness. It was the soundest sleep of her life and there was absolutely no sense of time passing as there was with a normal sleep.
She had stumbled into bed, relieved beyond belief to be able to finally lay down. She had closed her eyes, then opened them again, to find the world had grown dark and silent and that she had no idea what the time was.
When she asked the house AI what the time was, it stayed silent.
Devin stretched and sat up. Her temple throbbed. It was a minor ache. The patch of gro-skin over the wound felt cool against her fingers, so there was no infection beneath.
The room was dark and the windows were unpolarized, so it was dark outside, too. That didn’t help her guess the time.
She was still dressed in the simple trousers and shirt she had worn to the festival. They were stained, spotted with blood. The top of the sleeve carried Zsoka Owen’s blood.
With a shiver, she stripped the clothing and put on the first thing she could find. They were a set of the plain pants and work top that hundreds of people wore to work every day. Printable standards.
The house was unusually silent and still, too. Devin had expected that there would be a few messages at least. Was the ship still so busy recovering from the riot?
She printed coffee and while it was assembling, she glanced out the window over the little table and saw movement out on the hard-packed earth where the taxi-boats always landed.
