Furnace (Hunter-Killer #1)

Chapter 38 - Faith in Something

When he stepped out of the cell at last the hysterical laughter he'd been fighting to hold in finally came spilling out like the breaking of a dam. The data slate clattered from his fingers and he let Ivy wrench him into a hug that made him gasp. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, squeezing with a fearsome strength he didn't know she possessed.

Ryke hugged her back just as hard, laughing all the while.

Eventually the two young soldiers uncoiled from one and other, and Ryke noticed belatedly the star-studded audience that had assembled to witness the events inside the holding cell. Colonel Hackley and General Theikvaal were waiting for him outside the door and he could see in the gantry more than a dozen members of the Commissariat observing proceedings with amazement.

He could hardly blame them. Clearing his throat and smiling awkwardly, Ryke saluted his superior officers. From the corner of his eye he saw the three Commissariat representatives, Khazwari, Caletz and Yanfoukis, emerge from a connecting passageway. After a moment he began to feel like something was missing and he let his hand drop from the salute, a twinge of confusion in the back of his mind.

Then he realised that the blast door was still open. He looked back sharply over his shoulder, then to Colonel Hackley.

"I thought, if we wanted your message to seem sincere, it was probably better not to lock the door behind you," Hackley told him, though he could see on the faces of the guards in the room they were less than thrilled with the decision. "Makes the gesture ring a little ... hollow, somehow."

"I guess that makes sense," Ivy said, although she failed to stop her eyes flickering nervously to the open door where the vast form of the Scraegan was still visible.

"An impressive display, Sergeant," Caletz said begrudgingly. "I apologise for my language before. I was wrong to doubt your resolve."

"I appreciate that, Minister."

"However, I cannot say I am totally convinced by what I saw. Given the language barrier it is impossible to be definitive about just what this creature thinks. If we are wrong and we release it in the middle of the Forge the damage could be catastrophic."

Khazwari nodded sagely. "I don't believe any of us would disagree on that point, Minister. We are in uncharted waters now. That being said, our guest certainly seems to have calmed down. From what I saw I believe Sergeant Vannigan has done all that can reasonably be expected. In the time we have, I'm convinced enough to follow this through."

Yanfoukis pursed her lips together tightly for a moment, eyeing up the open door. Then, gathering a fortifying breath, the Commissariat Minister walked towards the cell.

"Minister!" one of the guards yelped, stepping forward to bar her path.

"Stand aside!"

The words leapt from her lips with such viciousness that the man stopped dead. He hesitated for a moment, glancing awkwardly at the other officers. When no-one ordered him to stop her, he sheepishly moved out of her way, his finger curling around the trigger of his rifle. Yanfoukis stepped over the threshold, hands clasped behind her back. Ryke heard the huff of breath from the Scraegan within but no bellows of rage; no screams. He watched her as she stood motionless, a spindly silhouette between the Scraegan's two enormous legs.

Almost a full minute passed before Yanfoukis turned on her heel and walked back out of the cell. She looked drained of colour, beads of sweat on her cheeks, but she was unharmed. Shuddering, she blew out her cheeks and pinched the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb, steadying herself. Then she looked to her fellow ministers.