The windswept trees along the coastline swayed in the afternoon breeze. Several birds took wing from the branches, soaring inland on the air currents. The further they traveled from the ocean, the thicker the forest became. Firs, cedars, and maples clustered together, forcing earthbound animals to find paths between them. The birds dove through the canopy and landed under a thorn bush, where they searched for worms and bugs in the soggy dirt.
They hadn’t been pecking for more than a minute, when a shrill scream blared through the forest. The noise grew deeper until the earth under the birds began to shudder from the low tone. A deer bounded by on a familiar trail, desperate to escape the imposing roar. The birds abandoned foraging and flew back the way they had come. As they cleared the treetops, the noise followed them upward. A vehicle launched out of a nearby clearing, sunlight glaring off its shiny exterior.
Jyra found herself in another cockpit, in another seat, but she had never been more uncomfortable while flying. The pain of her injuries worsened; the very vibration of the transport brought nothing short of agony.
The shooter now acted as pilot. She hadn’t said a word once she took Jyra’s arm and helped her get to the ship. Jyra couldn’t make sense of what happened in the forest. She had no idea if she should fear or thank the woman next her. Both might be in order. Eldred had talked a lot and said nothing. Despite their brief encounter, Jyra never trusted her.
The shooter, on the other hand, seemed to support claims Berk had once made about hospitals on Silanpre. She even bore a similar mark Berk had on his wrist. Jyra reminded herself that although she was here to escape the resistance, she had no cause to think ill of Berk. He didn’t play a role in locking the door to her quarters. Then again, he didn’t help her escape.
A spasm of pain shot across Jyra’s scalp and she clamped her head with a hand, wishing she hadn’t because her shoulder was so sore. Her mouth tightened into a grimace.
The ship suddenly leveled out and the shooter sat back in her seat, her thin frame relaxed and her arms spilled over the armrests.
“Serana,” she said. “I’d shake your hand, but I think it’s best you don’t move too much. You’ve got a name?”
“Jyra,” Jyra said. “I assume you have some use for me since I’m not bleeding out in a grove of trees.”
“Grove?” Serana raised one of her dark eyebrows accompanied by an incredulous smile. “That’s a whole forest, not some minor stand of trees.”
“There weren’t many trees where I was from.”
Jyra realized she unconsciously referred to Tyrorken in the past tense, reminding herself that it was truly gone. Serana nodded, but ignored the invitation to inquire about her passenger’s home planet. They sat in silence, save for the purring engine behind them.
“I know you have no reason to believe me, but that woman deserved what she got,” Serana said as she adjusted the settings on the flight computer. “Most people we rescue around the world have no idea what’s happening on Silanpre.”
“What do you mean? About the hospitals?” Jyra asked, struggling to ignore the shooting ache in her back. Serana glanced at her. Jyra never forgot the piercing calculation of Serana’s eyes in that moment.
“It’s a long story,” she said. “It can wait until you get some treatment.”
“You’re not part of the corrupt hospitals, are you?” Jyra said, sitting up and instantly regretting it.
“No,” Serana said quickly. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Then tell me all about it,” Jyra said. “The longer the story, the less time I have to focus on everything that hurts.”
“We’ll be landing shortly, but the quick version is I’m part of an underground group working to shut down the hospitals and hold the medical administration on Silanpre responsible for what they’ve done.”
“So, you work in a resistance movement?” Jyra asked. Serana nodded and Jyra felt a crack of laughter in her throat.
“What?” Serana asked.
“I just fled another resistance,” Jyra said. Even as she spoke, she wondered how much she should tell Serana. The gun remained in the pilot’s belt near her hip and Jyra didn’t want it aimed at her for saying the wrong thing.
“They locked me up with no credible cause,” she said, knowing it was a poor explanation. “Change of management.”
Again, Serana made no effort to further the conversation. Instead, she banked the ship hard to the right. Jyra gazed out of the cockpit and saw another forest below. Perhaps it was the same forest. Gray mountains stretched toward the blue sky in the distance. The trees never seemed to end. The sunlight reflected off the green foliage below, breaking the canopy into pockets of light and shadow.
Serana brought the ship lower and cruised straight toward one mountain that towered above its fellows. It reminded Jyra of the resistance base on Drometica. Even from her vantage point, it was easy to identify the jagged ridges and outcroppings on the rocky cliffs that collected white snowdrifts. Near the foot of the mountain, Jyra noticed fingers of mist drifting out into the trees. It looked as though the vapor sprung from the mountain itself.
Within minutes, the ship reached the mist and Serana banked to the left this time.
“Hang on,” she warned. Jyra did with a numb sense of foreboding. She’d had enough rough landings for a while.
The ship plunged into the mist and Jyra noticed the computer and other screens on the console clicked off.
As though anticipating Jyra’s question, Serana shot a half-smile across the cockpit.
“It always happens,” she said. “The mist disrupts computer calibration. That’s what makes this a perfect location for our base.”
Once they dropped through the mist, Jyra observed the nose of the ship had been oriented into full landing position. The forest greeted them again below but now Jyra saw several clearings full of ships, most of which looked like the one around her.
“Where did you get all these ships?” she asked. The pair of spacecraft the previous resistance had managed to get seemed insignificant compared to the whole fleet below.
“If I tell you they’re reclaimed medical transport vessels, can you figure the rest of it out?” Serana said, now wearing a full smile. It softened her features and left Jyra marveling that the woman sitting next to her was the same one who had shot Eldred in the forest.
“Here’s the fun part,” Serana said. She yanked back on two levers and the ship lurched. Jyra gave a small cry as the engine ground in protest. The ship descended into a clearing, the landing thrusters slowing it at the last moment to settle softly on the grass.
“That takes me back,” Serana said. “Sorry,” she added, as Jyra grimaced again.
They left the ship in the same manner they had entered with Jyra leaning on Serana who also carried the duffel. The air didn’t feel as heavy anymore, but the novelty of its purity still hadn’t worn off. Jyra took deep breaths and tried to remember the path Serana took through the trees. They walked out of the clearing and were once again sheltered by the forest. The lush, leaf-bearing trees had been replaced by tall evergreens. Jyra felt the cushion of the fallen brown needles beneath her.
Suddenly, Serana stopped next to a cedar tree. The main trunk split into four different leaders that looped out like knobby elbows before ascending again.
“Hold onto the tree,” Serana said, after glancing in all directions, her sharp eyes piercing the gloom. Jyra did as she was told and Serana swung the duffel off her shoulder and followed it to the ground. Her hands glided over the dry bed of the needles then her fingers disappeared into them. She rooted in the decaying ground cover for several moments before pulling up a metal ring.
Serana got back to her feet and tugged while walking backward. A square sheet of steel swung out of the earth, scattering needles to the sides and into a lit passage beneath. Jyra forgot her wounds in the moment of disbelief. She too checked the surrounding forest, but immediately realized she was searching for something that would explain this concealed entrance. If such a hint existed, the trees kept the secret well.
She limped toward the opening and saw a ladder leading down into the passage.
“You can go first if think you can make it,” Serana said. “Or we can set up rigging to lower you down.”
Jyra awkwardly got to her hands and knees and managed to swing her legs onto the ladder. Her shoulder threatened to give out from the strain. She descended several rungs and had to rest. She couldn’t ignore the burning in her left shin much longer.
“You’re nearly halfway,” Serana said, with an encouraging smile.
“I didn’t realize this resistance was literally underground,” Jyra panted.
“It’s the safest way to operate,” Serana said. “So hurry up and get down there.”
Jyra had to clutch the ladder even after her feet reached the floor of the passage. Her brain spun inside her skull and she felt sweat beading on her forehead.
A dull thud sounded above her and Serana appeared at her side. The hatch had been swung shut and the moment Jyra looked, a steel rod jutted out of a box near the hatch frame and slid into a bracket welded on the underside of the door.
“Why wasn’t it locked before?” Jyra asked.
“Control knew I was approaching,” Serana said. “Groomers will be by within an hour to spread the needles over the hatch. By that time, hopefully you’ll be feeling better.”
The two women pressed into the passage. Jyra couldn’t help comparing this tunnel to the ones in the mountain on Drometica. As far as she could tell, this passage only served the hatch she’d used. Despite its elementary purpose, sconce lights had been mounted every fifteen feet and an air duct took up about a quarter of the ceiling for the entire length of the passage. Steel banding ran along the walls and crisscrossed over Jyra’s head to keep the dirt from collapsing into the tunnel. Heavy I-beam buttresses secured the banding in place.
Jyra wanted to tell Serana about the base on Drometica, but it hurt to talk. The passage sloped upward and curved to the left.
“There’s a care facility on this end of the base,” Serana said. She could tell Jyra was nearly out of energy.
The light of another passage spilled on Jyra’s shuffling feet. Serana steered her in a new direction. This passage was wider and better lit. Strangers passed Jyra, who marveled at how quickly they walked. Though she could have moved with the same speed and grace a day ago, Jyra wondered if she would ever be able to manage it again.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, she thought. All I know is what hurts. Serana guided her through a door that didn’t lead to another passage. A medical exam table took up most of the small room. Lights hung from the ceiling and a bank of cabinets occupied the wall opposite the door. An empty IV rack stood near the left wall, like a forgotten hat stand.
Jyra sat on the medical table and Serana’s voice sounded far away. Jyra watched her press a red button on the wall before she left, closing the door as she went. The activity of people in the hallway was hardly audible.
Jyra rubbed her trousers. She examined the fingertips and saw small white crystals on the skin. She touched them to her tongue and recognized the taste of salt. From the ocean, she told herself. She recalled the time Macnelia told her history as a kite racer on Jiranthem. At the time, Jyra could only imagine a body of water large enough to contain a racecourse. After Macnelia’s story, Jyra had been lost in thought, wondering what it might be like touch an ocean, to be immersed in something so vast.
Now I have and I hardly remember it, Jyra thought, staring at the white lights overhead. Or maybe I do remember it and I’d rather not. Her introduction to an ocean could not have been less like the romanticized meeting she’d pictured in her mind. Jyra swallowed hard, but the taste of salt lingered in her mouth.
The door opened and a man entered. The silvery gray frames of his glasses matched the color of his long coat and even his hair. His eyes caught the light and his smile elevated his cheeks, making his face appear rounder.
“My name’s Drenal,” he said in a rushed professional tone. “Normally we’d have some intake information for you to fill out, but Serana mentioned that the sooner I start treating you, the better. Can you tell me what happened?” Drenal’s smile never left his face and Jyra had no doubt that he wanted to help her.
She explained about the rough landing and spending the night in the forest. Drenal nodded as she spoke and opened a tall cabinet door. He reached in and extracted a white box, about the size of the computer monitors on Valiant Conductor II, which extended outward on a spring-loaded metal arm. Drenal aimed a lens on the box at the points where Jyra indicated feeling pain. He frowned a few times, but made no comments.
Next, Drenal opened a drawer, selected several IV bags, and set them on their rack. He whistled as he unwound the tubes, but said nothing about Jyra’s condition. After fussing at the cabinet station, he returned to Jyra’s side.
“Can I have your left wrist, please?”
The tattoo on Berk’s wrist flew into her mind and she brought her arms tight to her sides.
“Are you going to mark me?” she asked. Her voice sounded shallow and weak.
The sparkle disappeared from Drenal’s eyes in an instant.
“We do no such things here,” he said stiffly. “That shame belongs to the hospitals above us.”
Jyra nodded taken aback by Drenal’s sudden change in character. He, too, frowned and rubbed his glasses on his coat even though the lenses were quite clean.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I just need to insert a needle in your underarm. That’s all.”
Jyra didn’t feel the poke of the cold point as it entered her flesh. Soon afterward, a wave of drowsiness struck her. Drenal cleaned off the cabinet station and said he’d be back soon. As Jyra felt her consciousness fleeing, she remembered that she had been drugged almost as soon as she met the previous resistance as well. At least this time, she could tell it was happening.
*
Jyra blinked against a piercing glare. Her stomach fluttered the way it had after she and Dario had shared a bottle of Wistful Prairie Whiskey years ago. She felt groggy, but the pounding sensation in her head would not subside.
“What!” she shouted. Her hands clutched bars on either side of her bed. Her clothes had been replaced with a light medical gown. Her chest still hurt. Serana stared back at her along with a woman Jyra assumed was a nurse.
Serana muttered something and the nurse left the room. The lights overhead had changed, which meant Jyra was in a different room.
“What happened?” she demanded through gritted teeth.
“Life-saving surgery,” Serana said. “Patched up some internal bleeding. You’re lucky Drenal caught it. It’s easy to overlook it on the scan. Were that the case, we might be burying you right now.”
Jyra tried to sit up but Serana gestured for her to remain where she was. Jyra couldn’t help checking her wrist and a smile crept across Serana’s face.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “No tattoos for you here. Drenal told me about your concern.”
Serana raised her own arm and pushed the sleeve back.
“No one deserves this,” she said, exposing the inked lines on her left wrist. “Most of the people in the resistance were branded by a hospital at some point.”
Jyra relaxed her grip on the bars and felt her head sink back into the soft pillow. Her shoulder still felt sore, but certainly not as bad as it had been. Her left leg felt stiff and she saw a cast poking out from under the covers near the foot of the bed.
“A fracture,” Serana said. “Drenal said it should heal in about two months.”
“Where is he?” Jyra asked. “And how do you know all about my treatment?”
“He’s helping another patient, but he’ll be here shortly,” Serana said. “As for your second question, I’m responsible for you. That’s how it works here. Those you bring in, you look after.”
That seemed clear enough and Jyra made no reply. She glanced around the room. The walls and ceiling were constructed and stabilized like the passages. The steel bands glimmered, bearing the weight of the earth.
Jyra shifted and felt the IV needle tug uncomfortably under her skin. She leaned over the edge of the bed and stared at the floor.
“Where are my clothes and bag?” she asked.
“In your recovery room,” Serana said. “Once Drenal gives the word, I’ll take you there.”
“And do I stay in recovery until my leg’s better?” Jyra asked bitterly.
“I’ll be able to show you around,” Serana said. “But you need to trust me. Once you’re healthy again, you can either stay here or make your way elsewhere. Rest in a resistance is often just as vital as the resistance itself.”
If Neeka had gotten more sleep, maybe she wouldn’t have fired on Orasten, Jyra thought. She wouldn’t have been so irrational, kept herself under control. The door opened and Drenal appeared.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked, hitching his glasses higher on his nose.
“Better,” Jyra said.
“Excellent,” Drenal said, surveying a monitor behind Jyra. “So you suffered some internal trauma, a minor leg fracture, a few bruised ribs, a concussion, dehydration, plenty of contusions especially from the safety harness, but you ought to heal just fine in good time.”
“What about my shoulder?” Jyra asked. “It still feels sore.”
“It has some minor muscle tears, likely caused by the harness. Try to keep it as still as you can. Healing will come in time.”
“Is she ready for the recovery ward?” Serana asked. Drenal nodded.
“Just get the wheels in here and you can take her there,” he said, turning to leave.
“Thank you,” Jyra said. Drenal paused and inclined his head, giving Jyra a warm smile before he departed.
“He’ll check up on you periodically,” Serana said. “I’ll be back in a moment with the wheels.”
Jyra lifted her right arm across her chest to rub her shoulder. A lock had kept her in her quarters before. Now her injuries replaced the lock, immobilizing her in another room. Two months, she thought. Plenty of time to remind myself that coming here was a bad idea.
*
Serana pushed Jyra into her new quarters. They weren’t as dismal as Jyra expected. The walls had been paneled with rough wooden planks and the lighting wasn’t as stark as it had been in the treatment areas. A single steel buttress spanned the width of the rectangular room. The bed was tucked in a corner opposite the door. The mattress looked comfy enough, but Jyra released a heavy sigh when she saw what was on the bed.
The clothes she had worn when she entered the base were washed, dried, and folded next to her duffel, which was still zipped shut.
“I put your belt and dagger back in your bag,” Serana said, as she pushed Jyra over to the bed. “One of the nurses almost cut herself on the blade when they were preparing you for surgery. I’m surprised I didn’t see it earlier.”
“It belonged to my brother,” Jyra said, accepting Serana’s assistance to move from the wheeled chair to the mattress. Serana moved the IV bags from their bracket on the chair to the hook on the wall above the headboard.
“Where is he now?” she asked.
“He’s dead,” Jyra said, sinking onto the bed, feeling much heavier as she thought of Dario.
“I’m sorry,” Serana said. Jyra rested her arm on her duffel, desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Why are you doing this?” she said bluntly.
“Doing what?” Serana said.
“I know you found me and you’re responsible for me and all that, but why are you helping me in the first place? I am grateful for all you’ve done, but what do you get out of it? That’s what I don’t understand.”
Serana sat in the wheeled chair and pushed herself back and forth with her feet, staring at her hands in her lap. Jyra then noticed she was actually looking at her tattooed wrist.
“I’m here to make sure no one suffers the way I suffered,” Serana said. “Nothing I could do outside of this resistance would be as effective. If I’m not doing all that I can to protect others, how can I face myself? The Allied Hospitals are imprisoning patients, experimenting on them, and preying on their families.
“When it comes to you, I’m upholding my personal promise. You might be a stranger, but now you won’t be branded and entered into the hospital database. Had that woman got you to her ship, you’d be locked in a ward by now.”
“It sounds like I’ll be stuck in this ward for some time, too,” Jyra said. Serana shook her head.
“No. Like I said, I’ll be showing you around the base,” she said. “You’ve got a lot to learn. It’ll come in handy when you’re better.” She tucked her dark hair behind her ears and stood up to leave.
“What makes you think I’ll be so useful?”
“You were active in another resistance and managed to escape after being wrongfully incarcerated,” she said. “That means you’re capable and so you’re useful. I’ll be back with some food.”
Serana swept out of the room and Jyra’s unease with her surroundings ebbed. She thought of what sort of meal might be coming her way. Only then did she remember she already had food. She opened her duffel and extracted her belt and dagger, then rooted around for the food and water.
She grasped the other package Leonick had given her and realized she had no idea what it contained. It took up about a fourth of the space in her duffel. It wasn’t easy to wrestle free onto the bed because of her IV tubes. She tore the paper off and used the dagger to slice open the top flap of the blank box within.
Her breath stuck in her chest, provoking spasms of pain from the bruises over her lungs. The entire box was stacked full of bundled bills, no doubt part of the bounty the resistance had taken from Orasten’s cargo bay. Inside the top flap, Leonick had scribbled a brief message.
Not quite all of your share, but it is the best I could do. Be careful where you spend it. Agents are likely already searching for their property. Good luck.