Chasing the Shadows

by Maria V. Snyder

  Elese is way too chipper for this time of the morning. We drill and spar and work out and drill and spar and work out. Then a break for lunch before I stand in a shooter’s stance and attempt to make Mr. Orange Light go away twenty times in a row. My arms are sore from yesterday’s fruitless efforts. Finally, the part of the day I’m most looking forward to arrives and I dash back to get a shower before going to Beau’s office as an official security officer.

  “You’re late,” he says.

  “Did you want me to stink up your office?”

  “No. Next time leave training earlier.”

  “Fine with me.” I plop next to him.

  Beau has dual Q-net terminals—I’m so jealous—along with a regular terminal at his desk. He spends the most time securing the Q-net. Although the other officers are trained, he has a natural talent. Radcliff is rather good at tracing worms as well. That’s how I met him. He caught me illegally worming on the ship. Back before I interned with Chief Hoshi. I doubt he’d catch me now, but I learned early on never to underestimate Officer Tace Radcliff.

  “Tora told me you checked my security around the camera feeds,” Beau says in a flat tone.

  Tora, eh? And she accused me of running to Radcliff to whine. I gauge his mood. Normally, he’s a terrible flirt, cocky and easy going. I wonder if I’ve offended him or broken some protocol. We’re supposed to be partners on this.

  “I wanted to make sure they hadn’t been compromised,” I say.

  “You don’t trust my protections?”

  Ah. I hurt his feelings. “I trust you to do the best you can. Jarren is better than both of us and, I’m sorry, but I’m super paranoid.”

  He grunts, slightly mollified. “Setting up an alarm was a good idea. Now we need to figure out where Jarren’s hiding.” He picks up his tangs.

  Time to tell Beau about my worries. “I think we should test to see if DES is getting messages from us.”

  His hands freeze halfway to his ears. “Where did this come from?”

  “Last night, I was trying to think of a way to determine which files Jarren was monitoring or stopping from reaching DES, when I thought, if it were me, I’d stop them all so there’s no risk one will get by me. We should confirm that we have reestablished contact with DES. Remember that at one point during the attack Jarren had cut us off from them.” Not that DES could do anything to help us. But they should know what’s going on so they can at least warn the other Warrior planets about Jarren.

  “We’re in contact with DES,” Beau says. “That’s the first thing I checked when I was cleared for duty.”

  Beau was sliced by the shadow-blobs and then pulsed by the looters. “How are you doing?”

  “I’ve a cool crisscross shaped scar, you wanna see?” He pulls his shirt, untucking it.

  I grab his wrist. “No. Niall and I can’t even hold hands in uniform; I don’t think Radcliff would approve of you flashing your abs at me.”

  “You ain’t seen abs like these.” He winks.

  Nice to know he doesn’t hold a grudge. “Don’t worry, I have.”

  He pishes. “Oh please, Niall’s got nothin’ on me.”

  “Who said anything about Niall? I’m talking about Elese.”

  Beau opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He snaps it closed.

  Score one for Elese. I switch my focus back to work. “Can we test the connection to DES again? Jarren might have blocked us since you checked.” Before he could pout, I add, “Indulge my paranoia please.”

  “All right. How do you want to do it?”

  I mull over the problem. Worming is good at getting into places that are supposed to be protected. I wish I could trail a file as it travels to DES’s data clusters. I’d see right where it’s intercepted. But that’s not possible. Not while I’m alive. When I died, I flew through the Q-net and it would have been easy. It was probably just my own version of the afterlife, but…my interactions with the Q-net have been different since then.

  My idea might be unconventional and impossible, but worth a try. “Can you send a report to DES’s security marked urgent?”

  “What should I write?”

  “Just nonsense. It’s not the contents that are important. It’s more the destination. I’m going to try to follow it.”

  Beau turns and stares at me. “You can’t do that. No one can.”

  I don’t say anything.

  “Those routes are for text files. Which you’re not. You can worm into DES’s cluster for urgent information and see if my file shows up. That’s what I did.”

  “Can I at least try?”

  “But…” He glances away. Drumming his fingers on the desk, he remains quiet for a long while. Finally he says, “After you had the Q-net outline the HoLFs, Radcliff asked me to take the video footage of the pits from after you first saw them and have the Q-net mark the HoLFs.”

  Huh. I cross my arms. Why didn’t he ask me? “And?”

  “It wouldn’t work. I even took it to your cluster. Nothing.”

  “You wormed into my cluster?”

  “Took me hours, and the only reason I got in without setting off any alarms was because I was there when you layered in the security measures.”

  In that case, my ego isn’t as bruised. However, more important than my ego are the results. “Nothing at all?”

  “Nope.”

  Am I surprised? I do call it my cluster for a reason. But still…

  “That’s why I’m going to let you waste both our time to try to follow that file. I reserve the right to say, ‘I told you so’ when it fails.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Beau writes up a short report that says, ‘This is an exercise in futility.’ Then he marks it urgent. Ready? he asks through the Q-net.

  I close my eyes for a more immersive experience and concentrate on the file. Towing it into my cluster, I imagine in detail what I wish to do. The file transforms into a snake of data strung together like beads. It wraps around me. It’s hard to describe because, in the Q-net, you don’t have a form, but you have a presence. And now there’s a weight to my presence. A strange unease flicks through me. What if I get trapped or lost? Would I forever be entangled in the Q-net? Or would I go insane?

  It’s too late for doubts. Go, I say.

  Beau hits send. And I fly. Pulled along on the invisible paths through the Q-net. Similar to the star roads, but not as…complex and beautiful. It’s linear, making sharp, nausea-inducing turns.

  Until it smacks into a wall. A painful wave ricochets in my head—talk about solid security measures. Then the file is sucked into a huge sorting cluster. Lots of information from Yulin. So far so good. A plug and chug program sorts them and puts all the biology reports together, matches the administrative files, sends messages on to their final destination, etc...

  My urgent file is tugged from the big cluster and put into a database with others marked urgent. Lots of others. All sitting there. I scan dates, the oldest is 2522:139. That’s too old. These shouldn’t be stored, but sent to the proper personnel in DES. The older ones might have gone on and then been stored here after they’ve been read, but the new one shouldn’t have stopped.

  Beau worms through a tight gap. See, I told you it’s getting to DES.

  Is this the same place you checked for your other test file? I ask.

  Yes. What’s wrong?

  Can’t you see all these files?

  I see the urgent file and a few other reports.

  There’s hundreds here.

  You must have damaged your brain with this stunt, Beau says.

  I’m fine. Can you go out and come back the official way, using your clearance?

  This is a waste of time.

  Please.

  All right. Beau disappears.

  While I wait, I check the rest of the database, looking at the dates. Nothing marked before day 139. What happened on that date?

  Beau enters as if he’s strolling through a door. Having clearance makes navigatin
g the Q-net vastly easier.

  What do you see now? I ask.

  Same thing as before except now that urgent file is gone. I’m probably going to get into trouble.

  I’ve a moment of doubt. Did that wave of pain make me see things that aren’t here? Why can’t he see them? There must be another layer of protection. I examine the security programs. And…there! Woven into one of the basic codes is another delicate set of instructions, hiding all the files from both wormers and those with permission to be in this cluster. But not from me because I arrived in an unconventional way. I unwind it, turning it off temporarily.

  Beau yelps. Stars, girl! Give a guy some warning. A pause. What the fu—

  Loads more files, right? I ask.

  Yeah.

  I let him figure it out.

  Nothing’s gone through to DES since day 139. It’s all been collected here. Something big must have happened on that day.

  It clicks. It was the day of the first looter attack!

  You mean nothing has reached DES since they stole those Warriors? Beau asks.

  Yes.

  So that means DES believes—

  Planet Yulin went silent. Just like Xinji.

  Four

  2522:193

  Stunned, Beau and I take a moment to just…absorb. If DES hasn’t received any messages or reports from us since 2522:139, then they’re not aware of the second attack or the shadow-blobs. And they probably believe everyone on Yulin is dead just like when Planet Xinji went silent.

  Then who has been responding to our—Jarren, the murdering looter.

  Let’s go, Beau says. You worm out of here and I’ll leave via official channels.

  Okay. I rewind the program and cover my tracks without causing ripples, which takes much longer. Ripples would alert Jarren and could be traced back to me. While the Q-net is similar to a gigantic ball of yarn with a gazillion layers, the…strands act like they’re made of liquid. Confusing, I know. Wormers find gaps in layers and squirm/worm through. However, those layers will flex and undulate, especially if the wormer is inexperienced. The more experience a wormer has, the less the disturbance. Jarren has been worming all over the Q-net with nary a ripple. Scary, right?

  By the time I disentangle, Beau is already on his feet. He’s crossing his office with short agitated strides.

  “This is bad, really bad,” he says. “How long have they been blocking us?”

  At least the math is easy. “Fifty-four days. But we should assume Jarren’s been monitoring us since we arrived on Yulin.”

  “And he probably decided on what files to let through to DES once we were planetside.”

  “I’d bet those odd responses from DES were really from Jarren,” I say.

  “We’re completely cut off!” He fists his hands in his hair.

  I’ve never seen Beau so freaked before. “Not completely.”

  He whips around. “What do you mean?”

  “I found a way out during that second attack. I reached Chief Ritsa. That was real because she gave me the override codes for the base.” It’d been a worming feat driven by pure terror and desperation. In other words, I’ve no idea how I managed it and am not sure I could do it again. But I keep that little nugget to myself.

  Beau takes a breath. “All right, we need to report this to Radcliff.”

  “And my parents.”

  It didn’t take long to assemble everyone in security’s conference room. My parents were already enroute to Radcliff’s for dinner. Officer Morgan sits on Radcliff’s right and Drs. Milo Jeffries and Kara Gage complete the group. The two scientists are second in command after my mom and dad. Plus they know all about my situation. I claim a chair next to my mother.

  Beau stands and explains what we learned during our foray into the Q-net. A moment of silence follows.

  “Are you sure?” Dr. Gage asks.

  “They just confirmed what we’ve suspected,” Radcliff says to her.

  We? That doesn’t include me or Beau. I glance around. Or Gage. Or Jeffries, if I’m reading their pinched expressions correctly.

  “Why wasn’t I informed?” Beau asks with an even tone, but his hands are balled into fists and pressed against his legs.

  “It was a guess, Officer Dorey. We didn’t want to tip Jarren off by actively probing the blockade,” Radcliff says. “If he discovers we suspect, then he’ll search for our attempts to bypass his measures.”

  “Have you been trying to reach DES?” I ask.

  “No. On the off chance we were right, we’ve been feeding him misinformation about our security. The other science reports are being filed as usual,” Morgan says.

  “Permission to speak freely, sir?” Beau asks Radcliff.

  Oh boy. This ought to be interesting.

  “Granted.”

  “Do you really think I would have tipped Jarren off, sir? If that’s the case, then I wish to tender my resignation.”

  “This isn’t about your ego, Dorey,” Morgan snaps. “It’s about survival.”

  Her words hit me hard. I didn’t think of it that way before. And it’s way scarier than just being blocked. It also deflates the puff from Beau’s chest.

  “You were doing your job,” Radcliff says. “Securing the camera feeds, checking for a block using conventional methods. That’s what we needed you to do. That’s what Jarren expects us to do.” He turns to me. “Why didn’t you trust Officer Dorey’s security measures?”

  Now I’m on the hot seat—is that really a thing? How do I explain without sounding like I’m boasting? “I don’t want to die again. So I’m being extra careful and super paranoid.”

  My mom clasps my hand under the table in silent support. But everyone else is waiting for me to continue.

  “I trust Beau to do his very best, but I’ve a unique way to navigate the Q-net and it’s…more accurate, so I wanted to ensure that our messages were reaching DES.”

  “Diplomatic,” Jefferies mutters.

  “Did you tip off the looters?” Gage asks.

  “No,” Beau answers. “I didn’t trigger anything and Ara was a ghost.”

  Technically, Lyra is a ghost.

  “What does all this mean for us?” Jefferies asks. “Is that Protectorate ship still enroute?”

  Mom tips her head at Radcliff.

  “Yes,” Radcliff answers. “It was dispatched prior to the block. Even if DES suspects we’re all dead, they are still required to confirm it beyond a doubt and make an effort to search for survivors.”

  “However, if Jarren wishes to keep his activities secret, he has to…” Dad glances at me.

  Mom squeezes my hand. Uh oh.

  “Has to what?” Gage prompts.

  “Eliminate the rest of us before that ship arrives,” my father finishes in a rush.

  I suspected as much. Yet hearing it said aloud lends it more weight. The news sinks to the bottom of my stomach with a sickening thud.

  Gage is clasping her hands so tight her fingertips turn red. “That means we have…”

  “Less than six hundred and thirty-eight days,” I say. No one remarks on the speed of my math. Tough room.

  Jefferies pales. “To live?”

  “No. To find Jarren and stop him,” Radcliff says with confidence.

  “What about the HoLFs?” Gage asks in a shaky voice. “He let them do his dirty work for him on Xinji. That’s why he destroyed so many Warriors.”

  “That’s still a theory,” Dad says. “We haven’t proven that the arrival of the HoLFs is due to the destruction of the Warriors.”

  Unable to keep quiet, I say, “That’s not quite right. Jarren didn’t destroy the Warriors to release the shadow…HoLFs. He wasn’t expecting them when he attacked Xinji. Now when he attacked us, he knew what would happen. But Jarren didn’t particularly care if we survived or not.” A shudder zips up my spine as the memory of his words, they might survive until the Protector ship arrives repeats in my mind. “He also didn’t indicate that he was counting on it. In fa
ct, he was going to send you all the information he had about the shadow-blobs.”

  “However, at that time, he thought he had you in his custody,” Radcliff says. “It was probably a lie to keep you calm and cooperative.”

  True. Yet it felt genuine. It was only when I was rescued that our deal was broken, which was why he returned to kill me. I clutch my mom’s hand with both of mine at a sudden realization. “I’ve killed us all!”

  Mom leans toward me until our shoulders are touching. “Nonsense. None of this is your fault.”

  “It is. As part of the deal, Jarren made me promise not to tell anyone, including his thugs, his real name. I had enough time to tell you before he came back to kill me.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Radcliff says in his Security Chief voice or his I-must-be-obeyed voice, depending on who you’re talking to. “We stick to the routine, keep sending out reports. The only thing that changes is we search for a way to contact DES without alerting Jarren’s organization. Is that possible, Ara?”

  Everyone stares at me, including Beau. Although his expression is flat, he can’t hide the sparks of anger in his amber eyes. Thanks, Radcliff.

  I relax my death grip on my poor mother’s hand. “What do you think, Officer Dorey?”

  There’s a slight softening in his posture. “Anything is possible. In my experience, nothing is entirely secure.”

  “Then you and Junior Officer Lawrence will make that a priority,” Radcliff says to Beau. “Do you need a higher clearance terminal?”

  “That would help,” Beau says.

  “There’s the one in the Control Center, but it’s staffed around the clock,” my dad says.

  “We could clear the room for a few hours,” Mom says.

  “No,” I say. “Nothing can change or that will alert Jarren.”

  “I thought he couldn’t access the camera feeds in the base,” Gage says alarmed.

  “Right now the feeds are secure and are showing live footage. However, like Dorey said, nothing is entirely secure. There’s no reason to take a chance. The terminals in Dorey’s office will be fine.”