Chapter Fifteen

“Your sister is in the hall outside demanding to see you,” Bridget said when she came in with new clothes. “I’m so sorry, but all I have is a waiter's uniform.”

“That will do. Thank you,” Lisbet said as she took the pile of clothing from Bridget. “While I’m changing, go back out in the hall and tell Tiffania that I would love to see her, but I’m not at my best just now. I had an accident and I need to take care of myself. Encourage her to leave.”

“They’re not letting anyone leave just now,” Bridget squeaked, clearly dealing with problems of her own. “The police are here and they’re interviewing everyone. They want to interview you, but they’re willing to wait until you’ve changed. They want your clothes in a bag as evidence.”

“Fine. Tell Tiffania to go back to her hammock and do her interview with the police like a big girl.”

“Will do.” Bridget ducked out.

Lisbet got out of her clothes and laid them out for the police. She went to the sink and tried to wash herself, but they only had some weird sanitizer. Blood was oozing from the dart wound on her side. Breathing hurt.

There was a sanitary napkin dispenser in the room. It had tampons and pads. Lisbet chose the pad from the control panel and paid for it with her bracelet. Then she got an idea and bought another one. From there, she rolled one of the wingless pads into a loop with the sticky side in, then she used the other pad’s sticky side to hold it in place. It was makeshift, but she felt much better once that was done.

She put on the waiter uniform, and then she braided her hair in two tight French braids down the sides of her head. Her hair stopped at her hairline at the nape of her neck, but the hairstyle made her look even more like one of the waiters. When she left with Beck, she needed it to be as quiet as possible. It would be amazing if she was able to leave unnoticed.

When she was dressed, Bridget brought the police in to question her. They took the dart with the memory card. They couldn’t look at it there. They were worried about what viruses the card might carry. It needed to be examined carefully. They believed it would have the grievances and the demands of her attackers on it… if it didn’t have a virus that was meant to cripple Vantz’s system.

It seemed like they had all they wanted before advising Lisbet to see a doctor. They told her they’d be in touch once they knew what was on the memory card, then informed her that the exit had police officers stationed there, Beck was waiting for her, and it was safe for her to leave.

From what the police said, it sounded to Lisbet that leaving The Boiler Room was going to be easy. However, it was far from that. When Lisbet got to the exit, she saw that all the effort she had put into looking inconspicuous was wasted. Everyone knew it was her. There were a million cameras taking pictures of her. Beck was standing in front of the transport, working with the police to give her a path out.

Lisbet didn’t know what to do other than to throw herself into the crowd and try her best to make it to the transport. Like a hundred people touched her on her way. She dove head-first through the door and onto the seat. Beck flew in after her and the door snapped shut on its own, except it wasn’t quite fast enough and one of the reporters somehow made it into the vehicle with them. The transport started moving down the tunnel with the reporter inside.

It was a man who instantly started firing off questions at Lisbet.

“Have you heard about the explosion?” he asked gruffly.

“What explosion?” Lisbet questioned in alarm.

Beck tasered him. Twice.

The man crumpled.

Beck pressed the red emergency stop button and, when the vehicle came to a stop, Beck opened the door and knocked the reporter’s body into the tunnel with an intense kick. His body fell.

Lisbet winced.

The door shut behind the reporter and they continued on their way to Castle Ares.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Beck folded his taser into something smaller with the safety on. He dropped it on the seat next to him like it didn’t matter. Nothing had happened. He opened his breast pocket and pulled out his cigarette, which he started smoking with an air of indifference that truly impressed Lisbet.

“What was that man talking about?” Lisbet demanded.

“One of our bombs went off today. It was only supposed to explode if someone tampered with it. It was one that had been placed in an empty pleasure palace. Either someone came to check on the palace, or loot the palace, or mine there. Whatever. It was in a zone that has never been approved for mining. No one should have been there… ever.”

“Who set it off?” Lisbet asked urgently.

“Miners. So far, we’re not sure who died, but a group of them have been reported missing. That’s what your little incident with the rubber bullets was really about. Someone knew where you were and decided to take immediate revenge on what they viewed as Vantz’s fault. They couldn’t get to him. They could get to you.”

“I don’t know what they wanted,” Lisbet fumed. “The police took the memory card with the explanation or the demands or whatever.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Beck answered with his eyes on the ceiling of the transport. “What they want isn’t exactly interesting because we aren’t going to give them what they want. That’s enough. You won’t be going back to The Boiler Room tomorrow. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“What does that mean?”

He took a deep breath and met her eyes before explaining. “We haven’t activated our magnetic field yet, so we’re going to lose all the gasses the bomb emitted. We’re going to have to replace that bomb. Mars’ gravity isn’t strong enough to keep that gas close to the surface, but that’s a tomorrow problem. How are you feeling?”

“Shaken,” she said, snatching the cigarette out of his hand and taking a drag on the cinnamon sugar cookie-flavored cigarette he was smoking.

She coughed.

He laughed. “You don’t seem hurt. You’re pretty tough, aren’t you?”

“I’m very hurt. I need to see a doctor. You have one?”

“Yeah. I told you. Fortieth floor. We’re going there now.”

By the time they arrived back at the castle, Lisbet was quite calm. “This thing,” she said, pretending to flick make-believe ashes on Beck’s shirt, “sure works. I was so stressed out. Talking to Tiffania was awful. Why did she come here? Why did she put herself in such danger?”

“You’re one to talk,” Beck said, helping Lisbet out of the transport and leading her gently to the elevator. “You did exactly the same thing. Selling yourself like an idiot.”

“You don’t think I’m an idiot, Beck. I dunno what, but something about me wins you over.”

“Yeah, I think you’ve had enough.” He took the cigarette out of her hand, took a long drag on it himself before he flicked it off, and returned it to his pocket. “I shouldn’t have let you have that many inhales on your first try. You’re acting like a rag doll.”

Like a drunk couple, they made their way up to the fortieth floor. There, they were met by one of the most startlingly striking people Lisbet had ever seen: blue eyes, chiseled features, and muscles for days. He was too perfect to be real.

“This is Invocation. He’s a doctor and a professional grouch,” Beck said, introducing her to the doctor.

Lisbet stared at him with wide eyes. “You’re my doctor?” she squealed. “I love that!”

“Disable her bracelet,” Invocation said briefly before he showed her to an examination table. “Where are you hurt, Lisbet?”

“Everywhere, but especially here,” she giggled. She got on the table and pulled up her shirt. She was only supposed to show a little patch of skin where the dart had hit her like a lady, but she was feeling giddy and sloppy so she pulled the white shirt up over her bra, showing the rubber bullet marks on her skin.

“Shit,” Beck said, grabbing her shirt and undoing the buttons. “How many places were you hit?”

“No need to be so worried. I was only hit on my front, not on my back at all,” she explained with a drunken giggle.

Invocation looked at the spot where she’d doubled up the pads and saw that the bottom pad had soaked up a lot of blood. He gently pulled the whole thing off. “That was a thick dart,” he said, getting annoyed and then preparing a needle for her. “This is in case of an infection. Were you hit by any other darts?”

“Nope, just bullets,” Lisbet said, as Beck stood by counting the bruises. “I’m bulletproof.”

“That’s a lot of internal bleeding,” Beck complained.

“Oh, shut up,” Invocation said steadily as he disinfected a circle of skin for his needle. “You can’t complain that your princess gets hurt when you use her for a public relations shield. You’re setting off bombs that are exploding in other people’s faces. You can’t be surprised when a corresponding bomb goes off in your face. Besides, they didn’t kill her. They weren’t trying to kill her. They’re too afraid of what would happen if they did. Would anything hold our side back?”

Beck groaned. “There aren’t a lot of ways to approach this problem.”

“Well, get your ducks in a row. Well, she doesn’t need stitches. She does need a proper wash.” Invocation pulled a few bandages out of a drawer and placed them in Beck’s open palm. “Why don’t you take her upstairs for a bath? Skip the water rations and wash her up properly. She’s got red paint and blood everywhere. Put the bandages on her when she’s dry. I’ll come check on her in the morning.”

Beck nodded and carefully did up her buttons before he hefted her arm around his shoulders and led her back to the elevator.