Vengeance by Brian Falkner

had into his veins.
    The Tsar was a concern, but distance was a greater concern. The further away from Batemans Bay they got, the safer Price felt.
    She turned and looked back at The Tsar. It was strange how such a little thing, a slender length of steel, could turn a person from a big, vivacious, fun-loving show-off into a small, grey thing. The Tsar had always been larger than life. Now he looked older, shrivelled and dull.
    An overgrown but passable track through the trees led them to a long-abandoned highway. You never realised how clean highways were until you saw an abandoned one, Price thought. Street-sweepers and the tyres of thousands of cars kept them clear. But not this road. It was papered with leaves and studded with rocks. The highway would gradually sink back into the earth it was built on, a relic for some future civilisation to dig up and wonder at.
    But will that civilisation be human or Bzadian?
    They came to a wide open area of forest, clear-felled. A firebreak, although with years of neglect it too was well overgrown. The Bzadians wouldn’t call it neglect. They didn’t believe in cutting and slashing at the natural world around them.
    After a brief discussion the Angels turned into the firebreak. The going would be slower, but they would be less likely to run into Bzadian ground patrols. Even so, they stayed as close as possible to the tree line, ready to duck back under cover at the slightest sign of trouble. Brogan’s eyes scanned the sky constantly and she often seemed to be listening to things that nobody else could hear. Her sight and hearing abilities were extraordinary, Price thought. When they bred humans in Uluru, they bred them good. Genetically enhanced in some way. Not quite super-humans, but almost.
    The side track was a blemish on the otherwise unbroken wall of the forest. A dark intrusion into the trees, just wide enough for the little truck.
    Price signalled to Wall who slowed to a stop. It turned out to be a dead end, but it was almost perfect for their needs. Somewhere to hide, not too close to the town. Wall eased the truck in between two trees and stopped again in a wide space, well concealed by dense overhanging foliage.
    She turned and stared at Brogan, who was sitting quietly in the passenger seat. Brogan returned her stare without blinking.
    “Do you really think you could do something for The Tsar?” Price said.
    “It’s a possibility,” Brogan said. “But as I said, you’ll have to trust me.”
    “Trust doesn’t come easy around here,” Price said. “Especially not for you.”
    “It’s your call,” Brogan said.
    “Monster, what do you think?” Price asked.
    “Do anything will kill him,” Monster said. “We no can remove the needle without he bleed to death.”
    “But do you trust Brogan?” Price asked.
    Monster shrugged and did not answer.
    “Barnard?” Price asked.
    “You can trust her,” Barnard said.
    “Give me a reason,” Price said.
    “Can’t do that,” Barnard said. “It’s classified.”
    “I’m not prepared to let her touch him unless I am convinced,” Price said.
    “Take my word for it,” Barnard said.
    “I can’t do that,” Price said. “What do you know?”
    “I can’t …” Barnard wiped The Tsar’s forehead with a cool cloth. She dropped it and looked up at Price for a moment. Without warning she exploded. “Jeez, Price, is this some kind of control thing? Because this is The Tsar’s life we’re talking about!”
    “Keep your voice down,” Price said, looking around at the silent forest. “This is not about you and me, it’s about The Tsar. I’m the one who has to make the decision, and I’m the one who has to live with the consequences. Don’t ask me to do that without giving me the facts.”
    Barnard stared at her a moment longer then went back to wiping The Tsar’s forehead. Without looking at either Price or Brogan, she said, “Brogan gave up the other Fezerkers.”
    Brogan stood silently,