Broken People (Serial)

Forty-Five

Dale stopped at the bottom of the grand staircase. For a soldier used to the horrors of war, the amount of smiling faces in the main hall was overwhelming. Rosie's happy giggles echoed across the hall as she ran after the menzataxor, who was jumping from one person's arms to another, purring like a small turbo engine.

"We could end the war with this," he said.

"If it worked on machines, yes." Renard took off on the path left by the laughter, heading to its source.

"Are you sure there are no lasting side effects?" Dale walked in line with him, looking for a glitter of gold. Where was she?

"We never lost anyone, but I wouldn't know." Renard wiggled his gloved fingers. "I never touched it. I can't afford to be happy." He frowned and added, almost like an afterthought, "I've got a circus to run."

Something in that statement didn't sound right, but Dale didn't have time to analyze it. A vault waited to be opened and a world to be saved. He didn't find the gold, but spotted the sequins on Cielo's costume. Once he took a couple of steps closer to the exit, he saw them all, Cielo, the Swan, and the tall aerialist, forming a triangle. From behind the swirling silver and obsidian that formed her mask, the Swan's dark eyes followed their approach. She still stood frozen in place, like Cielo's mask. The aerialist watched them all, helpless and a little lost.

Renard walked up to the ballerina and ran a hand on her waist. Dale couldn't hear the whisper but read the words on the moving lips. Everything okay?

The Swan's anguished eyes returned the question tenfold. No, everything wasn't okay.

Dale shook his head and asked Cielo, "Where's Aurore?"

"You called?" Someone tapped his shoulder.

Dale spun around. He hadn't heard her approach. "We need your hands," he blurted out. The pressure obviously affected his reason. There had to be a more tactful way to present his request.

Aurore glanced at her hands, then looked up at him. Instead of asking why, she asked, "How?"

"He can't do it, but they think you can help." Dale took her by the arm to pull her after him, and his hand landed on the uncovered part of her prosthetic arm. Once again, he marveled at how real it felt, except the color was wrong. He shook his head to clear it. He couldn't get distracted. "Come."

The urgency in his voice must have worked because Aurore's body stopped resisting. They hurried towards the stairs.

"How's Cole?" Cielo's voice came from behind him.

"He's fine," Dale said over his shoulder without looking back. She clearly didn't believe him since she came after them.

"Watch the kid!" Renard told the aerialist.

The four of them rushed across the upper floor.

When no more visitors were in sight, Cielo stopped and ripped her mask open with both hands. The abused pieces of golden tissue curled up like crumpled paper and retreated beneath her hairline. "Oh, much better..." She gasped for air. "I was suffocating. I'm never doing that again."

Renard gave her a concerned look, but Dale burst into a run. No time. No time.

Aurore easily kept up with him, as he wasn't pushing his strength to the limit. Still, her prosthetics held. Renard stayed close to Cielo, who was slower because of her limp.

They passed through the last series of rooms leading to the southwest tower. As the sculpted door appeared in the distance, footsteps echoed in an adjacent corridor. Dale stopped abruptly and pressed Aurore against the wall, moving in front of her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, making sure her face was not hidden. Everyone knew her in the city so the guards would definitely recognize her. Since they were both panting, there was a good chance the guards would believe they had walked away from the crowd in search of a quiet place to be alone and couldn't wait.

For realism, he pressed harder against her. His hand slipped between them, holding a gun he was prepared to use. Aurore's quick breath brushed against his ear, her body rigid in his arms. Either the shock or the trust in him had prevented her from pushing him away. It was probably a combination of both.

Two guards appeared from around the corner and came to an abrupt halt, seeing them in that intimate posture. "Ahem," one of the guards cleared his throat.

Aurore's arm circled Dale's neck and, in his mind, he could picture her cold, gray eyes daring them to say something.

"Excuse me, miss. You can't be here ..."

"We'll be out in a minute," Aurore said.

The guards hesitated and, even with Renard and Cielo running down the corridor, it might have worked if it hadn't been for the loud thud coming from behind the vault room door.

The guard on the left reached for his gun.

With his raised, Dale turned in time to see Cielo opening her mouth.

In an instant, Renard had one hand squeezing Cielo's throat. "Now is not the time." His other hand pointed at the guards.

Muffled explosions made them drop their guns while smoke rose from their radios. They groaned, clutching their heads, and collapsed to the ground, motionless.

"They're not dead," Renard said, releasing Cielo, who glared at him and rubbed her throat. "They'll be out for a couple of hours then, hopefully, wake up with no recollection of what had happened. It's not an exact science." He grimaced, and his face took on a paler shade.

"Go ahead," Dale told the girls. "We'll hide the guards and join you."