Lifer by Beck Nicholas Read Free Book Online Page A

biting into her cake. Lucky, because I have no idea what to say.
    We share the rest of afternoon tea in silence. Finally, the last crumb has been eaten and the last liquid sipped. “Would you like me to wash the dishes?” I ask.
    Lady shakes her head. “Of course not. We’ll send the dishes to the kitchen below.”
    Her kitchen is a place to eat and serve food only. Copying her actions, I place my cup and plate in a large drawer next the sink. She closes it, presses the button marked ‘kitchen’ and there is a soft thud. I assume it’s on its way down to where Lifers like me will add it to one of the compact dishwashing machines.
    I grip my hands together and wait for orders.
    Clearly, Lady is not an invalid, and she doesn’t want me to cook or clean. What am I here for?
    The question bounces around my head and I have to press my lips together to stop it bursting free. It’s like I can hear Davyd’s deep tones in my head. “Do whatever she wants. No questions.”
    But I don’t know what to expect.
    “Ready now?” An excited grin accompanies Lady’s question. Her eyes glitter beneath the bright downlights. Shining with joy or madness.
    She has to be talking about the surprise. I’m only here at all because she’s ordered it. I want to be here for answers about Samuai and Zed, for myself, and information for the rebellion, but part of me is just a little bit excited. I’ve never been given a present. The only special occasions marked below are when the screen showing the time to destination ticks down another year. Even then it’s not like the big annual ball they have on the upper levels.
    “Yes, ma’am,” I say.
    The change in Lady is instant. Her eyes narrow. Deep lines appear on her brow and color blooms in angry slashes above her cheekbones.
    “I. Told. You. To. Call. Me. Lady.” Fine drops of saliva spray from her mouth with each word. They hit my face. Slide in a trail of disgust down my cheek.
    I step back. Automatically, I lift my hands to prepare for the blow that must, must, must accompany such fury.
    A heartbeat passes. A heavy thud rocks my chest and leaves my knees weak. Then the wildness leaves her face and again she’s the warm, friendly woman who served me afternoon tea.
    But I can’t forget so easily. I breathe in soft pants as I lower my hands back to my sides. My mother’s warnings make sense now. This woman is more than grieving; she’s downright crazy. But it doesn’t alter my desperation to see what’s in that room.
    I swallow the fear, fighting the urge to wipe my face. No amount of time in the training room could’ve prepared me for this kind of danger. “I’m ready whenever you are, Lady.”
    “Come, my dear.”
    This time I know where we’re going. Again she reaches out and rests her hand on the silver handle of the yellow door.
    My stomach flutters like it’s become home to a nest of ship moths, the tiny flying creatures that hover close to the vents late at night. I take a shaky breath. The door swings wide.
    It’s dark inside. I don’t know what I expect. More yellow certainly, but beyond that?
    Lady reaches inside and the room lights up.
    Hot tears sting my eyes. My throat swells. I blink. Blink again, and my nails dig into my palms. Behind the yellow door is a shrine to the boy I loved.
    “Samuai.” I breathe his name on a sigh of longing. I have no ability to filter my words for the company I keep.
    Every surface is adorned with images of Samuai. Some recent, still more showing a smiling chubby baby, a dark-haired boy with a mischievous smile, a young man on the brink of adolescence, all awkward shyness.
    My hungry gaze flicks from picture to beautiful picture.
    How I’ve missed you .
    My cry goes unspoken. Somehow I pick up the strands of my composure and pull them back in, wrap them around myself, trying not to let my insides spill out onto the black, shining floor.
    “You like it.” Lady breaks my stunned silence. “I knew you would.” Her whole