Sea of Stars(69)
CHAPTER 11
STOLEN MOMENTS
What was that?” I ask, startling awake by the ground trembling.
“It was nothing,” Trey murmurs next to me. His voice is deeper; he must’ve fallen asleep too. It’s no wonder; he hasn’t slept much since we’ve been here.
“There’s something going on outside, Trey!” I hiss with alarm. “The ground is shaking.”
I rise from the bed, wrapping the sheet around me, taking it with me. I pass the high-backed chairs in front of the massive window wall. The smoky glass swirls around inside the panes, obscuring my view of the courtyard outside.
“How do you make this transparent?” I ask Trey over my shoulder.
“You don’t want to see outside right now, Kricket,” he says softly from the bed.
“Why not?” My alarm turns to deep-seated fear instantly. He doesn’t meet my eyes.
“It’ll scare you. I don’t want you to worry. I’ll take care of you. We’re going to remain safe. There’s a plan in place to move from this position. We just have to wait a few more parts until it is feasible to do so.”
“Is there a way to unsmoke the window so I can see what’s going on?”
“Yes,” Trey says reluctantly, sounding irritated that he isn’t able to lie to me, “but I don’t want you to see what’s out there.”
A part of me trusts him to know that I shouldn’t see it, but another part of me, the survivalist—the chameleon—has to know what’s happening—has to take it in—has to learn from it so that I can somehow avoid a similar fate in the future.
“Please let me see what’s going on.”
Trey climbs off the bed, his naked form a distraction from fear. He moves to the lavare, retrieving his clothes. When he returns, he has on black military-issue pants. He shrugs into a black shirt he normally wears under his combat gear. As he passes the closet, he ducks into it for a moment, coming out with a long, black robe. He brings it to me, holding it open.
“Won’t the person who owns that robe mind if I wear it?” I ask casually, but there is nothing casual about my question. It makes my stomach tighten.
“It’s Charisma’s and she wouldn’t mind—but it won’t matter anyway. She’s not coming back here,” he says grimly.
I wonder at his response while he holds the robe open for me. I turn away from him and allow him to ease the robe around my shoulders as I step out of the sheet. It’s more like a gown than a robe. I fasten the thongs that hold it closed before tying the ribbonlike belt that wraps around my waist several times. When I’m done, I suspect that I look like a blond-haired geisha in it. The black silky fabric trails on the ground; the waist is stiff with an internal corset. The bell sleeves fall over my hands; only my fingertips are visible. Turning to the window, I weave a fishtail braid into my long hair, tying the end of it in a knot while I wait patiently for him to defog the glass. I worry my lip between my teeth, afraid of what I’ll see.
Trey watches me for several moments, aware that I’m unrelenting in my need to see outside. He sighs heavily. “When I transition the window, Kricket, you’ll be able to view what’s out there, but nothing will be able to see in. Is that clear? You’ll remain obscured from the outside.”
His words cause me some panic. I nod, feeling my hands tremble. Why did I allow myself to believe that we were okay here? I wonder. Am I naïve or am I stupid?
Trey takes a deep breath before giving a voice command, “Quadrant four casement. No fenestration. Transparency one way only: interior to exterior.”
The roiling smoke between the glass panes dissipates, showing the courtyard beyond. It’s dark outside; the stars are the only things I recognize. Rubble covers the once pristine grounds, bathing the topiaries in gray with a thick coating of rock dust. Fires rage in some of the buildings surrounding this one. Others that aren’t on fire light up sporadically with blue flashing lights. It looks like blue lightning strikes behind the glass of the tall buildings. I wonder about it until I realize that Alameeda laser fire glows blue.
“They’re death squads—they execute civilians,” Trey says behind me, following my line of sight.
“Wait. Civilians?” I ask, feeling like I might vomit.
“Alameeda don’t take prisoners. It depletes their resources to keep them alive—so they don’t do it. But that’s not the only reason why they don’t. They hate our blood—our genes. They want to eradicate us.”