When the door opened, a rush of sound spilled out. Several conversations overlapped, metal clattered against metal behind the room’s central dividing wall, and there was the buzz of handheld welders. It took Cira several seconds to adjust and realize it wasn’t as loud as it had first seemed. The hall and the bridge had just been so oppressively silent it made the noise of medical feel unbearable.
Riston, Mika, Greenie, and several others were using the welders on handheld sensors, making the tiny adjustments necessary to boost their sensitivity. In zir office, Adrienn was deep in conversation with the head nurse and several security officers. Only the clanking of metal came from somewhere Cira couldn’t see. Everyone had their mission, and it seemed as though they were all working with the same desperate urgency. The only one to look up when Cira entered was Riston, and she tried to give zem a reassuring smile; it felt false, even to her.
Oddly, Treble didn’t seem to have a project. She strolled around the edges of medical like she was meandering through a park, one hand absently playing with her hair as she casually sidestepped piles of parts intended for other projects. But then, just before Cira was about to bring her in to help Riston, Treble stopped. Looking around, she caught Cira’s eye and tapped her booted foot against a storage compartment labeled Emergency Field Kits. “Aren’t medical sensors standard in these?”
“Yes?” Cira wasn’t sure where she was going with this idea.
Adrienn, though, heard and understood immediately. Crying out, ze broke away from zir conversation and rushed out of zir office. “LSSs! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”
Treble had to jump onto one of the medbeds to get out of Adrienn’s way. Once there, though, she didn’t leave. She perched on the platform, looking down with eyes alight as a touch of Adrienn’s hand unlocked and opened the cabinet. Once the door had retracted into the wall, Adrienn started yanking kits from the shelves. The burst of motion startled Cira, and she stared, gaping, until she finally figured it out.
LSSs. Life sign sensors. They were standard in an emergency field kit and meant to be used when searching derelict ships or wreckage to direct rescue personnel to where they were needed. No one had remembered that, though, because even though all officers had to be briefed on emergency policies and procedures, Pax ships almost never touched the kits for real. In Cira’s lifetime, the kits had been used in an emergency only once, and she’d been a child.
There were ten kits in total. Adrienn opened the tenth, removed a device about as long as zir hand, and began changing the settings.
“How can I help?” Cira rested her fingers on the casing of a kit, ready to grab it as soon as someone told her what needed to be done.
“Get one of these out.” Adrienn finished work on the first LSS and moved on to another. As ze worked, ze spit instructions out. The rapid-fire pace was hard for Cira to keep up with. She needed the help, though. She hadn’t touched an LSS since the practical final marking the end of the officers’ emergency protocols and procedures course.
Soon, Riston appeared at her side. Ze kept a hand’s-width distance between them that had to be on purpose—it was precise, and when she shifted closer, ze subtly shifted away—yet when Cira put her hand on zir forearm, the single point of contact was enough to pin zem in place.
“The captain promised to speak on your behalf—all of you—when we make it to Paxis.” Cira watched zem carefully, waiting for comprehension to hit.
“She…really?” Riston’s breath caught and from the way ze blinked and how zir eyes flicked back and forth, it seemed like zir brain was spinning fast. “What about you? Did she forgive you?”
“Not yet, but I think she might one day.” Cira forced herself to shrug. The if we live long enough was left implied. Riston’s lips rolling between zir teeth made it clear ze understood.
“Best get to work, then.” Ze nudged the next med kit closer to Cira and then opened one of zir own. “We don’t have a lot of time to get these out to the search teams.”
As if to punctuate zir words, the blue emergency lights flickered. The room went silent. Everyone froze; no one even seemed to breathe. The lights stabilized in seconds, but it took several additional beats before anyone moved. Activity resumed in a ripple that spread across the room, and everyone started working just a little bit faster.
Cira doubted she was the only one who noticed.
Resetting all ten LSSs took half an hour. When they finished, Cira hesitantly approached Meida.
“We’re ready to deliver the LSSs to the search teams. Would it be possible to take Riston with me?” She made the request, but she also fully expected Meida to say no.
Instead, Mama smiled—the expression more laden with implications than the situation warranted—and said, “Obviously. Watch out for each other, okay?”
Cira blinked. The only thing she could think to say was, “Of course.”
It was even more surprising when Adrienn decided to leave the safety of medical and come with them. Ze left medical with a full med kit in a bag, its forebodingly red strap slung across zir chest. When Cira opened her mouth to ask what ze was doing, Adrienn shook zir head and remained silent. The question was ridiculous anyway. Cira was pretty sure she knew the answer.
“Attention crew,” Erryla said through the ship’s speakers. “Engineering teams are working on the power difficulties and system malfunctions. Additionally, all crew—including minors—are required to report to their immediate supervisors every ten minutes until lockdown has ended. This is for everyone’s safety. Security and medical personnel will be dispatched to the last known location of anyone who fails to check in on time. To ensure the continued safety of everyone on board this ship and the best use of our limited resources, I ask that you make timely check-ins a priority.”
“She has security tracking everyone’s position each time they report in,” Adrienn said when the broadcast ended. “The data will be fed to the search teams and help narrow down the areas to target first. Hopefully engineering’s new encryption will hide everything from Ghost, but either way the map will help teams eliminate life signs of legitimate crew.”
Riston’s flinch on the word “legitimate” was small but noticeable. Ze couldn’t suppress it fast enough. The sight was a needle stabbing Cira’s heart. Permanence was the deep secret desire ze couldn’t keep from wanting even as it kept getting denied. It was something Cira hadn’t ever been able to promise, not before and especially not now with her own position in turmoil. She looked away, unable to bear the carefully neutral cast ze’d forced zir expression into.
At the control panel for the nearest elevator, Adrienn entered zir medical override and brought the car directly to their deck. Seconds later, the doors slid closed behind the three of them, and Cira found herself looking at their collective reflection in the mirrorlike panel.
We’ve never been together before, she realized. This was the first time the three of them had ever been alone in the same space.
Adrienn took advantage of it immediately, gently touching Riston’s elbow to get zir attention. For the space of a breath, neither spoke. The two zeren stared at each other, Riston blank and outwardly patient but Adrienn restlessly rocking forward and back as ze worked up the courage to speak. Cira was almost sure she knew what was coming. Hopefully, she was right. Riston may not need to hear it, but she thought Adrienn couldn’t handle not saying it.
“I’m so sorry.”
Riston smiled, a surprisingly soft, genuine smile considering the circumstances. “You of all people don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do. I should’ve—”
“Worked magic? Gone back in time? Sacrificed your skills and position just because I made the call to bring your secret to the attention of the whole crew?” Riston shook zir head. “It’s bad enough Cira is in trouble. It’d be so much worse if both of you were facing the captain’s ire because of me. I’m glad you didn’t confess.” Ze cut a quick, guilty look at Cira. “Most of
me wishes she hadn’t stepped forward, either.”
“We’d all be worse off if I hadn’t.” Cira even believed that. Although it was impossible to truly know where they’d be now if she hadn’t walked into her mother’s office and laid everything out, she doubted they’d be here. They certainly wouldn’t be here together. “We have a plan that could actually work, especially after Treble’s contribution, so let’s save the apologies for a time when we’re sure we’ll be around long enough for them to matter.”
“She clearly doesn’t buy into the idea of dying without regrets,” Adrienn muttered dryly.
“No, I’m the one who believes in not dying at all if I can help it.” To the amusement of her sense of the dramatic, the elevator chose that moment to signal their arrival on deck four.
Working on the theory that anyone whose goal was to slingshot them across the galaxy would prioritize direct access to power and engineering over pretty much everything else, they were going to deliver the first modified LSSs to the teams on decks three, four, and five. Cira, Riston, and Adrienn quickly tracked down the scattered teams using one of the few encrypted channels they’d been able to establish. While they walked, Cira had their own LSS out and sweeping for signals. The data streamed directly to security. They were integrating these readouts into Mika’s sensor web, and the basic details fed back to the search teams. Every sign of life displayed on her handheld screen as either green for confirmed crew or red for unknown.
So far, Ghost was still invisible. None of the spots were red.
Personal Video log
Excerpt from the records of Lasalia Nadar
Recorded while working in the propulsion labs of DLPRC
Terra-Sol date 3814.009
It’s over. I’m saying the words, yet I’m still not sure I believe them.
[a long pause and a deep breath]
It’s over. It’s over. I finished. We succeeded. It’s over.
[another pause, this one considering. Lasalia shakes her head] Repetition doesn’t make it seem any more believable. I’ve been working on the concepts behind the transdimensional drive for ten cycles. It’s over now, and I can’t find the excitement I expected. All I have is bone-deep relief and a growing sense of dread.
My work here is done, so I’m going to have to move on to the next step. It’s a hard reality to commit myself to. No matter how strongly I believe in the necessity of this work or how deeply dedicated my partners are to minimizing the loss of life, I’m afraid. I fear what might happen during this mission. I fear what might happen if the drives malfunction. I fear what determined, intelligent Pax officers might attempt when they realize where they’ve been banished to and the number of lives that might be lost in those attempts. I fear what might happen if those whose work comes after mine fail and the quadrant’s pain grows instead of heals.
So many things could go wrong. But oh, the beauty we might create if everything goes right.
Hopefully the crews of the Pax ships will find a way to forgive us for what we’re about to do. This isn’t personal. It isn’t about them or even about the PCGC and Pax Control. This is about humanity and finding a way to curb our own nature. Left to itself, humans have either consumed or fought over the right to consume. Even when we create, the most significant discoveries and inventions are developed to serve one purpose or the other. What’s coming will test our mettle, and all I can hope is that we can finally release our primitive desire to lay claim. The entire universe is now open before us. Resources are not an issue. Ownership shouldn’t be a concern. And this—[she stops, seeming to force herself to calm down]
This is why I agreed. Giving our species a chance to evolve beyond the limitations of our ancestors, all of whom were born under the inescapable pressure of truly limited resources, is worth it. It’s worth everything I have and more. The only… [she looks off camera and sighs] My only real regret is that not everyone will have the chance to make the choice for themselves.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cira
Terra-Sol date 3814.258
This will work, Cira told herself. Just because it hasn’t yet doesn’t mean it won’t. There’s no way anyone can hide from us if we get these into enough hands.
It was true. Would it happen in enough time, though? Even without seeing an actual countdown, she knew their deadline had to be approaching. Running shaved precious seconds off the travel time between teams, but delivering the first five LSSs still took half an hour.
Since Adrienn was the senior officer, ze did most of the talking. Cira only jumped in when needed. Riston didn’t even breathe loudly, not within sight of any crew. Zir entire focus was on monitoring the readouts. It gave zem an excuse to stay several yards back with zir eyes cast down. The crewmembers looked at Riston; ze never let zirself look back.
In between those brief stops, though, was entirely different. At first she only heard periodic muttered curses, but by the end of their first half hour out of medical, Riston was staring at the green dots on zir screen and all but growling with frustration. “Ghost’s only been on this ship for four weeks! They shouldn’t know it better than us!”
Us. Cira tried not to show how much that tiny word thrilled her.
“Construction plans, probably.” It was the answer she’d come up with after asking herself the same question. “Those details are supposed to be secured, but security doesn’t seem to matter to them. Plans are how I’d do it—make agents memorize every detail of the target’s layout.”
The sixth search team was working on the port side between decks five and six. Getting there meant crawling through the tunnels, and since Riston had spent more time in these hidden lanes than Cira and Adrienn combined, she tried to nudge zem into the lead. Ze shook zir head and stepped firmly into last place. Cira was the one who led them from the main halls of deck five to the search crew on the opposite side of the ship.
“I was wondering.” Adrienn huffed, wheezing slightly as ze clambered after Cira. “Why isn’t it worse?”
“Worse?” She stopped short, turning to stare at zem. “What do you mean worse? They’re apparently trying to send us to the other side of the galaxy!”
“Exactly! Nothing on the ship has been broken—even our communications will be fine once the block is dealt with. They haven’t irreparably broken anything,” Adrienn pointed out. “Why? If someone wanted to get rid of the fleet, there are easier ways than transdimensional drives. Developing tech like that must’ve cost more credits than a fleet of warships.”
“Which they could’ve used to blow us up.” That hadn’t occurred to Cira before. She’d been too focused on what was happening to speculate on what could be happening instead. “Why didn’t they blow us up? It’s what I thought was happening at first.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Adrienn exclaimed. “No bombs. Plus, when they realized Riston and the others were here, they didn’t murder them and hide their bodies in a cargo hold.”
“Yes, they did,” Riston growled. “Shadow—”
“Was alive when you found him and alive when you brought him to me.” Adrienn’s voice gentled, and sorrow was etched into the lines on zir face. “His death was a series of unfortunate accidents. The blade did damage, but he could’ve survived it.”
“Then why—”
“His spleen ruptured before you got him on my operating table,” Adrienn quietly interrupted. Cira was frozen ahead of them, watching Riston’s breath come quicker and zir fists clench tight. It was a standoff Riston wouldn’t win. As mild-mannered as Adrienn was most days, ze was still a brilliant doctor who’d fought to climb to the top of zir field.
“Was it my fault?” Riston’s voice cracked, and Cira’s heart did, too. How long had ze wanted to ask that question and kept zirself quiet by force of will.
“No,” Adrienn reassured. “There was a bruise on his side, something just beginning to show, and I think it must’ve happened when he was trying to hide. Knife wound or organ failure alone he could�
�ve survived. Both, though?” Adrienn slowly shook zir head. “Riston, nothing you could’ve done would’ve saved him, but I don’t think the intruder meant to kill him, either.”
Riston’s jaw clenched, muscles bulging under zir skin as tears gathered in zir eyes. The urge to gather zem up in her arms was hard to ignore, but they’d already stopped for too long.
“C’mon. We better keep moving,” Cira quietly prodded. “There’re still three to deliver.”
The two zeren glanced at her and muttered quick acknowledgements—Adrienn’s a simple “Right” and Riston’s a far more complicated “Sorry.” There was no way Riston was apologizing solely for the delay. Ze carried too much guilt on zir shoulders, and Cira wanted to force zem to dissect every thought in zir head until she could lay out all the errors and false equivalencies and show zem the truth instead. That was impossible now. All she could do was redirect zir attention.
“Any change on the maps?” She glanced back, relieved to find zem already checking.
“Not yet,” ze said. “I’m trying to reach Tink—uh, Mika. I think her team might be able to boost the LSSs sensitivity by linking the units. I don’t know if it’s possible, but it’s an idea.”
“If it can be done, Mika will find a way to do it,” Cira said.
Adrienn smiled. “That girl is so smart it scares me sometimes. I can’t wait to see what she’s like when she’s my age.”
“Yeah.” Cira faltered as the many things that could keep that from happening rushed through her mind. Swallowing, she managed to say, “Me, too.”
Riston was conspicuous in zir silence, and Cira couldn’t bring herself to look back. She pressed onward instead, narrowing her focus to reaching the next team as fast as possible. Whether or not Mika managed to boost the LSSs effectiveness, the odds would be better if all ten sensors were deployed. That was just statistical common sense. Cira could see the difference each time a new sensor was added to the sweep. The search map was getting more accurate.
Pax Novis Page 29
