Human Bait

Chapter 57: The Infirmary

"If the Noble Forces thought the proposal could help them conquer the South, then it must have come from a Northerner, right?"

Rekkan frowned, running an absent thumb over the back of my hand. "Then you think the Head Chef is Mekkar?"

His voice was carefully emotionless, but unease flickered across his eyes and tightened his shoulders. Earlier, I had contemplated whether Mekkar would cook his own nephew. Now, I wondered whether Rekkan could kill his own uncle. My eyes dipped to his desk where I had seen the photo the night before, but Rekkan had hidden it before Serigg arrived in the morning

The one gift he kept, a consolation prize from the game he could never win. From the family who wouldn't keep him.

I played with his fingers and forced words out through a swollen throat. "It might not be Mekkar. Uzmed could have persuaded Arakko to make the proposal for him. That would explain all of their fights... and Uzmed's guilt."

"So you do believe he feels guilty about Arakko's death? That it's not just an act?"

I hesitated. "Well... do you believe Mekkar actually feels guilty about Serigg?"

Rekkan's eyes flitted to the drawer with the photo, and his tongue traced his lower lip. When he met my gaze again, he said, "But the lab experts seem pretty sane, don't they? Compared to the other Implanted?"

"The Implanted developed that way during the Implant Era, too," I reasoned. "The Freshly-Baked were confused, acting crazy. But the Fully-Fermented functioned flawlessly."

He gave a slow nod. "Maybe their brains stop fighting the Implant and just let it take over."

Something rattled overhead.

Rekkan stiffened, fingers tightening over mine. "What was that?"

I stared up at the silver air duct. "Uh... a mouse?"

He released my hand and pushed to his feet, bionic leg first, on the bed. The mattress sank beneath his socks. Lifting a fist toward the ceiling, he rapped on the shiny metal duct.

The 'mouse' sucked in a breath.

I blinked. "Pakket?"

"I didn't mean to!" the air duct squeaked. "And now I'm..." The voice disintegrated into a stuttering sob: "S-s-st-stuck."

Rekkan raised his eyebrows at me.

I shrugged back at him, mouth open and eyes wide in a 'definitely not my fault' gesture.

Rekkan pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out an exhale. Then he pushed up a slat of metal on the air duct and shifted it aside. Gripping the edge with both hands, he pulled himself up to peek inside the vent. He hung perfectly still, biceps and back muscles straining his shirt.

Not that I was noticing.

"Hey, kid." His soft bass rumbled through the air duct and room. "You're not in trouble, alright? Just slide a little closer, and I can help you out."

Fuck, I didn't know he could speak so gently — so sweetly. No no one could blame me for melting straight into the bed.

Pakket was evidently equally impressed, since I heard the squeak of knees on metal as he slid closer. Rekkan hooked hands under the tiny boy's armpits and pulled him out. He lowered Pakket to the bed, snatched his towel, and brushed it over the boy's blonde hair. Dust bunnies fluttered to the bed.

"There you go," said Rekkan. "See? All better."

I was fairly certain goo was spilling from every one of my pores, joining the dust bunnies. The laundromat was going to curse Ether while cleaning these sheets.