‘I have more to show you.’
‘I’m not sure that I want to see it.’
‘You have to,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘Because others here at Coldbrook insist upon it,’ he said. ‘This plague was no accident.’
‘And you have no cure,’ she said. ‘In all these years, has nothing been found?’
‘There have been attempts,’ Drake said. ‘But no cure. I’ve been looking for one all my life. Even Mannan . . .’ He trailed off, clenching his hands as if realising his mistake.
‘So many secrets,’ Holly said. ‘What or who is Mannan?’
Drake shook his head slowly. ‘In your world, are there still wars?’
‘Wouldn’t be Earth if that wasn’t the case,’ Holly said.
‘That’s the one thing the furies stopped, at least. There are no more wars, because the whole world’s fragmented and regressed. From here, we sometimes deal with a dozen other communities, some of them quite large. But there is always some risk from the furies. One community gets too close to another, too tied in, and they’ll both go down if the plague catches them out. So isolation is the key to survival.’
‘That excuses secrets?’
‘From you, yes. Of course. You’re not just from another settlement or continent.’
‘Hopeless,’ Holly said.
‘Hope is what keeps some of us alive,’ Drake said, and the sudden passion in his voice was contagious. ‘Much of the world has given up, winding down as much as the furies have. But we still have reason to believe.’
‘In a cure?’ she asked. ‘Something unproven and seemingly beyond your reach? Surely you need proof to believe.’ She didn’t mean to mock him but she was tired and scared, and she didn’t care about Drake’s disquiet. She grasped at her own faith, and it gave her comfort in this strange place, with these strange people.
‘Perhaps,’ Drake said softly. ‘The Inquisitor, have you seen—?’
Someone passed by the open door – a young boy bearing a tray of food and a steaming bowl. Drake glanced over his shoulder, then nudged the door closed.
‘I’m so tired,’ Holly said, leaning back against the wall. She let her eyelids droop and willed her muscles to relax, slumping down, feigning sleepiness when in fact she felt more awake than she had since arriving here through the breach. She wanted to be with Vic and Jonah, she wanted to know that her friends and family were still well, but most of all she wanted to be alone. And then she could decide what to do.
‘I want us to be friends,’ Drake said.
‘We are . . .’ she said, her voice slurring. Leave me, she thought. She lowered her head with every breath, and Drake came to her, easing her down onto the cot. His hands lingered on her shoulders, but she kept her eyes closed. He’s touching someone from another world, she thought, realising only moments later that she felt the same.
Holly breathed deeply, concentrating on the fluid movement of the darkness behind her eyelids and wondering whether that was the true space between universes. Even when Drake left the room and closed the door she kept her eyes closed. She prayed into the uniform darkness, silent prayers that banished the gnawing loneliness inside her. She had never been embarrassed by her beliefs, even though there were many among her friends and colleagues who claimed not to understand them. Even that lovely old Welshman was a staunch atheist, and they’d had many long discussions about how she could maintain such faith while remaining a scientist. Just because most things demand proof doesn’t mean that there’s something that never will, she’d say, and Jonah would shake his head and take another sip of his whisky.