A Warrior on a Harsh World: Part 4
Where Kandi has to decide who to trust
A Warrior on a Harsh World is a story resurrected from our archives. It’s a prequel to The Lyra Cycle, telling the tale of how Kandi — Kandira Sakherani, dutiful daughter, promising soldier — ended up joining the ragtag crew of the Lyra. If you’re just joining us, hop back to part 1.
It turned out to be a lift. The doors slid shut with barely a whisper, and Kandi’s stomach flipped as it descended, though this one was slower than the one she’d taken on the way up.
“Where does this go?” She glared at the man.
“Service lift,” he said, trying to smile at her before eying her brother. “It’ll take them a bit to even realize to look here. They forget about us.”
“But where are you taking us?” For all she knew, he planned to dump them outside in front of Riga.
“Down.”
Kandi rolled her eyes and tried a different question. “Why are you helping us?”
“Not you.” He looked around her to her brother, his eyes wide. “Him. Basherin Sakherajen.”
Kandi's cheeks flushed as anger burbled in her stomach. She was about to chastise him for giving answers that weren’t answers when the door opened with a ding. Her face reddened even more that she hadn’t been paying attention — if he was leading them into a trap, she’d let him. But the corridor was dark and empty. Lights flickered, and a cleaner bot with broken sensor scooted along the grey floor.
A beep sounded, and she realized she stood in the lift door. She stepped to the side to let Bash and the orderly go past. But the orderly stayed in the lift.
“I have to go back to work.” He bent to grab something from his cart. He shoved a bundle at her and Bash. “For him.” It took her a moment to realize it was a sweater.
Kandi’s eyebrows pulled together as she took it. “Won’t you get in trouble?” Her forehead scrunched — something niggled at her gut. That niggle led her to another question: would all the sabeeri get in trouble?
A clunk echoed along the dim corridor. She didn’t have time to ponder questions about the fairness of the stratification of Antaran society or its sharp gender divisions. Instead, she grabbed Bash’s hand and ran towards the only spot of light. A few steps along, Bash started coughing, and she had to slow, which gave her a chance to think — maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to run towards the light.
“What do you think, Bash? Left or right?”
His eyes glinted, catching what little light there was, as he peered at her. “There’s only one way.” He waved his hand towards the light. “The free clinic.”
“The what?”
“The free clinic. I volunteered here before heading to the Academy.”
“How did I not know this?”
“You only had time for your battle axe. And the Surprefect.”
“I—” Kandi blinked. It was true, and he was surprisingly lucid when he wasn’t raving about aliens.
He started a shuffling jog towards the square of light. Kandi kept up with a brisk walk, which made her focus on his health again — he’d always been the runner. It hadn’t taken long for their childhood races to go from her letting him win to him winning.
“Stop!” she hissed, reaching out to grab his arm as they approached the light. It had resolved into a door. Shapes moved on the other side, and a silhouette loomed across the doorway. She pulled Bash as far as she could into the shadows, breathing a sigh of relief as an old nurse bot rolled by with a tray of empty hypos and bloody swabs. “A little more caution might be called for.”
“It’s only bots and sabeeri and outcasts in there. All of whom might fare just as well under the new AI overlords.”
“I thought it was aliens.” Kandi sighed. “Stay here. I’ll check it out, make sure it’s clear.” Bash looked about the protest, so she graced him with her severe big sister glare, and he sank into a squat by the door. Stepping through, it was exactly what he’d said: a clinic waiting room full of men. There was only one other woman — gnarled and bent — in the room, unless one counted the simulated torso at the reception desk, which had seen better days. The AI jerked her head up and her right eye twitched. She peered at Kandi for a second without moving, then dropped her gaze back down. Kandi could only hope the AI wasn’t sending a silent signal to her minders. Too late if it was. She dashed towards the yellowed windows that faced a small side street jammed with delivery vehicles, trash cans, and hazardous waste bins. Peering through the haze on the window, she craned her neck, looking one way then the other. Then back again.
“Zeus’ bollocks!”
Figures in Brigade uniforms headed their way down the narrow street. Kandi turned back to the waiting room, surprised to see half as many men as when she’d entered. Scanning the room for a reason, her gaze fell on the doorway where she’d stashed Bash. Her eyes bugged and she sprinted towards it, leaping over a bench that was in her way.
She pulled the first man away, but more encircled her brother, preventing her from getting to him. Using elbows and feet, she muscled a path through to find Bash smiling and droning on about the wonders of the unity AI.
“Come on, Bash.” She yanked him up with a little more force than necessary, then turned towards the men, a knife in her free hand. “If any of you breathe a word, I’ll kill you all.” She snarled at them.
But they didn’t move. Instead, one of them, an elderly man, old enough to be her grandfather, stepped forward. She held her knife out towards him and inched closer to Bash.
“I can help. For Basherin Sakherajen.”
She spun her head to glare at her brother. “You told them who you were?”
“I only told them what I’d seen, the ships of gold and star-filled pyramids. That’s all.”
The crowd of men had thinned as they returned to their seats, and through the clearing, Kandi saw shadowy figures on the other side of the glass. And not just any figure.
“Riga.” Her mother’s personal assistant and head of her personal guard lurked outside. Her chest clenched, and she looked at the old man, who still stood in front of her.
“I know a way out.” He indicated the dark corridor behind them. “I’m a water man.”
For the second time in less than an hour, she had to trust a strange man or give her brother to the people who wanted him dead. “Fine. Lead the way.”
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