I realised I had lost track of his hands. With his lips so close.
"I've finished with these two."
"Any progress?" Devich asked.
Mizra and Uzdal were dim shapes pulling on clothes, keeping their faces averted. I caught a glimpse of Mizra's side, and sure enough saw the mirror of his brother's scar.
"The same." The technician was staring at me. I wanted to cross my arms, but couldn't decide if he was looking at the nipples standing hard beneath white material, the scars running pink and stitched, or the suit spinning at my neck. Neither could I be sure which would be more disconcerting.
"At least they haven't regressed again." Devich turned to me and bent to lift my right foot. I gripped the wall with my free hand to keep my balance.
"True."
"Who will you do now?" Devich's breath tickled.
"The big guy. Team leader last. Sound good to you?"
"Whatever you like."
The technician walked around the screen and suddenly my foot was back on the floor, Devich had his hands on my hips and was pressing his mouth against me. He was warm through the fabric, his lips slightly open, promising pressure and moisture.
I let out a gasp. He stole a hand around, wiggled fingers beneath cloth and slipped inside me with a groan.
I fought the need to arch, to lean against the cold wall.
Instead, I gripped his head, held him there as his mouth moved, as he sucked the white cloth clear and his fingers, his fingers roamed.
"I've missed you," he murmured, voice muffled. "I need you."
I said nothing. Dimly, as though a wall of concrete, stone and steel stood between me and the rest of the room, I could hear Kichlan.
"You can't take him in without me." His voice was raised. Every one of these inspections was a strain on him.
I rocked against Devich's hands, wrapped my fingers through strands of hair and bit the bottom of my lip to stop myself crying out. While Kichlan fought for a brother who couldn't thank him. I churned inside, aching with pleasure, drowning in self-disgust. I was the reason they were here, I was putting this strain on Kichlan, on Lad.
"Don't you people keep notes?" Kichlan continued. "I'm his guardian, and you're not doing anything to him without me there."
I clenched around Devich's fingers, quivered beneath his mouth. And Kichlan said, "Finally. Thank you for seeing reason-" As I heard footsteps coming closer, closer, I eased Devich from me, out of me, and panting, whispered, "Why did you do that?"
His eyes were so green in the light from the screen, sharp like a blade of grass. "I told you. I missed you." Then he handed me my uniform pants and wiped his mouth and fingers with the kerchief he had used to soak up my blood.
I was tugging myself into the uniform as Kichlan and Lad appeared around the screen. Lad grinned at me, waved. Kichlan blushed a red that darkened in the green light, and looked away.
Devich, pretending to put away his tools, rifled through the bag he had brought. The sound of steel against glass was jarring, slicing into a dull tension making its way up my neck to nest in my head.
"That's good," he was saying. "But not as good as it could be." He clipped the bag closed and stood. In my uniform pants and camisole, I felt shaky and altogether too exposed. "Here." He had found a scrap of paper and a pencil in that bag, and started scribbling. "Cleanliness, Vladha. Cleanliness is the key." I wished he would keep his voice down. For show or not, I didn't need the rest of my team hearing about my apparent lack of sanitation. "Follow these instructions, particularly the next time something falls on you." He smirked as he handed me the paper, particularly pleased with himself.
An address was scrawled in graphite on the rough weave, and some vague directions. I glanced up, realising Devich was telling me where to find him.
"Follow them carefully." He winked at me, and deliberately ran the back of his hand over his mouth.
"Of course," I answered, and bent to retrieve my clothes. I jammed the paper into the deepest pocket I could find, so it pressed against my uniform, my second skin. It would remain hidden, close to me, even at home. "Good." Devich sat, drew out his slides, selected one, and began directing its pions to take notes. "You can go now."
With my clothes piled hastily over my uniform, I snuck past Kichlan and Lad. Lad was hypnotised by a mirror the other technician was using to flash reflected light in his eyes, and Kichlan watched his brother's expression intently.
Once out from behind the screen the air seemed to grow lighter, grow cooler and fresher. Natasha, with a smirk and a wrinkle of her nose, pressed a warm bun into my hands. The smells of melted cheese and cooked mushrooms wafted up, and sent my stomach growling.
I flopped into the couch and ate through my food, refusing to meet the eyes of the others.
Finally, Kichlan and his brother re-emerged. I was feeling sleepy by then, my stomach and hips warm, slightly fuzzy.
"That's all of you, then?" Devich stood before the screen as the second technician dismantled it. He scanned the slides, fingers sketching rows and columns in the air.
"Yes," Kichlan snapped off the word, his arms crossed, his face dark. "You know it is."
"Mmm."
Devich tucked the slides away again. His fellow technician finished cramming the screen into its bag and looked hot in the face, flustered compared to Devich's distant cool.
"Thank you for your participation," Devich rattled off what sounded like a liturgy, one he must have said uncountable times and the collectors had surely heard nearly as often. "For your service to the veche, and Varsnia itself."
A moment of silence. Were we expected to say anything in return?
Devich and the second technician collected their bags, balancing the large one that contained the screen between them. No one offered help.
In silence, the technicians left the sublevel. The paper Devich had given me felt heavy in a pocket close to my chest. My drawers were wet, starting to cool. My head ached.
"Well, that was a waste of a day." Kichlan took his coat from its hook, tossed one to Lad and handed me my own. "We need to make up for it tomorrow. Breakbell, earlier if we can." He shook his head. "Still have a quota to fill. Inspections are never taken into account."
One by one we filed out. Mizra and Uzdal, so close together, heads down in some silent and shared concern. Sofia, drawn and tired. Natasha, whistling a soft tune. Lad took the stairs quickly, still full of energy after a day spent sitting inside. Kichlan kept close.
I didn't know what to feel. Devich brought opportunities back into my life. He brought his invitations to high-ranking parties, his friends in old families. But he also brought instability to that comfortable corner where Kichlan, Lad and I had existed so peacefully. He brought stress for Kichlan, pressure and fear, and he had brought them because of me, because he had been worried about me. I couldn't tell Kichlan it was my fault, that I had effectively put Lad in such danger.
I would never tell him, but I would try to make up for it regardless. I had to find Jernea, and I hoped the old man still held all the answers. So I could help Lad, and maybe myself.
14.
I heard it before my suit woke me. And there was a moment of ringing and darkness, between the sound that shattered the night and the light that broke it open, when I knew, I just knew, that this would not be anything like the previous debris emergencies. That this was something worse.
The sound was like Grandeur collapsing. Metal and concrete and life crumbling in one great roar. The floor shook and a fine crack traced its way into the window beside the bed. As I levered myself upright my suit lit up brilliantly, catching gleams in the splintered glass like a spider's web.