Lifer Read Online Free Page A

scent of animals or chemicals.
    In fact, there’s a slightly sweet smell. Not exactly like the honey I associate with my mother, but something. I inhale deeply, trying to place where I smelled it before. It’s a little like the compound plants they feed the rabbits and the chickens but less earthy.
    Whatever it is, I like it.
    The hum, the buzzing of machines and pumps recycling water I’ve barely noticed because it’s existed in the background my whole life is gone. I strain to listen. No, the sound is not gone completely, instead muffled to whisper quiet.
    The pressure to remember everything to report back to my mother drags my footsteps on the shiny floor. While cleaners are required to work on the ship’s upper levels on a regular basis, their access to the private quarters of the head Fishie and his Lady is intermittent.
    Davyd halts at a set of double doors.
    It’s all I can do to stop in time so I don’t smack into his chest. That faint smirk is there again when I look up. Can he guess why I was distracted? Or does he assume it’s general wonder at the life of my betters?
    Focus . I need to do this better, heed the warning in my mother’s words. Too many people are relying on me. I need to do this for my brother’s memory.
    Instead of blurting out a question or quip about Davyd nearly causing a collision, I wait for him to speak.
    He looks over his shoulders at the doors and then back to me. “The Lady is—” His pause is long. Loaded with something I can’t read. “She’s unwell. We are concerned. Do as she asks. Whatever it is.”
    “Of course.”
    “Don’t upset her. Don’t ask any questions.”
    There’s tension in the set of his shoulders as he presses his arm against another wrist scanner that I didn’t notice in a small panel above the handle. The doors swish open.
    My breath catches.
    “Yes. It’s bright,” Davyd mutters.
    Bright is an understatement. Every wall’s painted a hyper yellow and the color presses in on my eyes until it hurts to keep looking. The white of the furniture provides only a small relief. The chemical odor in the air suggests a recent painting.
    Does Mother know already? Such an odd paint request would be news in Manufacturing, and the work detail should go up on the rosters, yet I’d not heard a whisper. It must be that the color scheme of the Lady’s rooms doesn’t matter to the rebellion. Or a Lifer didn’t do the work.
    I glance at Davyd’s hands and they’re clean of yellow. Not him then. I can’t picture him with a paintbrush anyway.
    The Lady herself bursts into the room from another door before I can step over the threshold. She wears a flowing green dress and I imagine a summer meadow from the Earth recordings. I’d mentally prepared for an invalid, or at least someone weighed down by mourning her son.
    This blond-haired woman radiates energy and life in a whirlwind of movement and a wide, guileless smile.
    “Asher, you’re here at last, come in.”
    She knows my name? I take a wary step, keeping my head bowed. My gaze flicks to Davyd’s for direction on how I should greet his mother. He responds with the slightest of shrugs. I should have known he’d be less than helpful.
    The Lady takes the decision out of my hands. She embraces me in a hug and squishes me. Shock stills me. Her soft body envelopes me, and I have to force myself not to step back to breathe. Up close she reeks of the scent I noticed in the hallway. What was pleasant is now overpowering.
    My nose must wrinkle or something because she giggles. A high, creepy tinkling sound. “It’s flowers, dear.”
    “Flowers, my lady?” I’m not sure of how to address her. When she doesn’t answer I add, “Ma’am?”
    “Call meLady.” Her mouth curves up. “These flowers are from plants inedible to us and the animals. Not useful in the slightest. Just beautiful flowers.” She giggles again. “What a wonderful thing.”
    I know what flowers are in theory, but I didn’t expect them