Free Beating Heart Cadavers by Laura Giebfried Page B

I'm not smoking,” Fields countered, lighting it. “The government's got you working late, I see. Do they pay you overtime?”
    “There're a lot of things to go over. We're just trying to hasten things along.”
    “What about Simon?”
    “What about him?” Caine tried, but then dropped the act. There was no use pretending with Fields. Mari was right: she was smarter than he was. “He's in West Oneris.”
    “Still?”
    There was a brief moment in which Fields might have looked sympathetic, though by the time that Caine had glanced up at her, the look had vanished. It was very possibly just a trick of the light.
    “So he hasn't been home at all? Not even before –?”
    “No. They don't want him having any visitors, they say, and they're not letting me bring him home, so ...” He broke off with a shake of his head, no longer willing to discuss it further. Though he might have once confided in Fields, the time when he didn't feel ridiculed for doing so had passed, and her understanding wasn't the one he needed. He had waited months for her to return, but now that she stood just feet from him in the kitchen, he just wished that his wife would just come down the stairs and stand beside him instead.
    “I'm – sorry – about what happened, Matt,” Fields said.
    “Are you?” His tone was cold, and he leaned back against the counter as he observed her, his arms crossed over his chest as though they might protect her words from striking him. “Is that why you came back to Oneris? To tell me that?”
    “No. I came back for my brother.”
    “Jasper?” Caine made a face and scoffed. “Why? Has he gotten himself into trouble again?”
    “He's a Spöke.”
    “That's one of the highest jobs in Oneris, Lad. You should be pleased, not concerned.”
    “I'm always concerned when it comes to my brother.”
    “Maybe you shouldn't be. It's not like he's concerned about you – though you always seem to involve yourself with the people who care the least about you in return.”
    “Really? Is that why we're friends, then?”
    “I'm not the one who should be explaining myself here: you ran off without a word. You didn't even come back for the funeral –”
    “Fine. I was wrong, and I apologize,” Fields said tersely.
    “Your sincerity is overwhelming,” Caine returned, his voice teeming with sarcasm. “I don't even know why you're here. You came back to find your brother: don't let me get in your way.”
    He stepped back as though to flourish her through the door with a wave of his arms, but she remained in her place. The first half of her cigarette had burned down to ash between her fingers, though she didn't seem to notice.
    “Was there something else?” Caine asked. His voice was still harsh, but in the moment, seeing how she had paused in quiet thoughtfulness, he rather wondered if he had at last gotten through to her and made her feel just a hint of remorse for what she had done.
    She ran her tongue over her teeth.
    “I had wanted to ask you something,” she said at last. “For – for help.”
    “For help?”
    “I need to get to Jasper, and the only way of contacting him would be through Spöken headquarters, but obviously I can't enter without the code.”
    “So?”
    “So now that you're ambassador, your identification number is high enough to gain entrance, isn't it?”
    Caine stared at her for a long moment.
    “Are you asking me to give you my identification number, Lad?” he asked.
    “I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't desperate,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically low.
    “Entering Spöken headquarters is risky enough for you as it is, not to mention that it's illegal for me. I'd lose my job. I'd lose Simon.” Caine shook his head. “I can't risk all of that – not for you, Lad. Not anymore.”
    “No. I suppose you won't,” she replied, and stood up to leave.
    “So that's it? That's all you came to say?”
    “I think that's all there is to say.”
    “Really? After a year, there's