Legacy Code

by Autumn Kalquist

  Tadeo crossed in front of Era and approached one of the guards. Era turned to find Zephyr at her side.

  “What happened?”

  “They arrested Dritan.” Era choked on the words. “They’re gonna blame him for the hull breach.”

  Zephyr’s eyes widened, and she laid her hands on Era’s shoulders. “You gotta calm down. Breathe.”

  I can’t. “He saved Tesmee—”

  “Shh. Come on.” Zephyr grabbed Era by the arm and pulled her toward the exit.

  Era took deep breaths, trying to calm the panic rising within her as Zephyr led her down the corridor. They reached the deserted dressing area, and Zephyr pushed her down onto the cold metal bench.

  She checked the stalls and came back. Every inch of her exposed skin had taken on a scarlet hue that contrasted sharply with the white of her suit. “Now, what happened?”

  “You’re burnt,” Era said tonelessly. They arrested him. There’s nothing I can do. Era put her head in her hands and willed her heart to slow down.

  “Where is Dritan?”

  “One of his crew members was coming off grimp and attacked Tesmee. Dritan stopped him. They took them both away.”

  “Whoa. That’s—but why would they arrest him? I don’t understand. You said he helped Tesmee?”

  “He saved her.”

  “Are you sure they arrested him?”

  “Yes. Maybe.” I don’t know.

  “If he saved Tesmee…”

  Era lifted her head and swallowed. “I did something I shouldn’t have when I fixed the stationary yesterday. The president’s file pull was ready, and I looked at it. She requested personnel records from months ago, back when maintenance installed new panels where the breach happened. Dritan’s crew was the one that installed them.”

  Zephyr sucked in a breath and sank down on the bench beside her.

  “They’ll pin the breach on them,” Era said. “Make examples out of them, just like you said they did with the riot leaders they airlocked.”

  “No. I never should’ve said that kak. Those rioters were guilty. You know they were.”

  “But Dritan worked on that sector. And a member of his crew just-just attacked the president’s daughter.”

  “And Dritan protected her,” Zephyr said. “He’s never even been in the brig for so much as a fist fight.”

  Era shook her head and blinked back tears.

  “They’re just questioning him.” Zephyr squeezed Era’s shoulder. “You’ll see. He’ll be out of there by last mess.”

  “I never should have looked at those files,” Era whispered.

  The shift buzzer sounded, announcing the end of midbreak.

  Zephyr stood up. “Get dressed. You’re gonna go and do your job like the loyal fleet colonist you are.”

  “Loyal? But I looked—”

  The door slid open, and a group of women walked in.

  “Anyone would have looked.” Zephyr kept her voice low. “You and Dritan follow the rules. You don’t complain. You never get in trouble…the president wishes we were all like you. Now come on.”

  The pressure in Era’s chest lightened at Zephyr’s words, but not by much. She stood, took her black tech suit from the locker, and stripped off the helio suit.

  Dritan was a good worker. He’d never been in trouble. And he did just save Tesmee. Zephyr had to be right. They were just questioning him.

  Era stepped into her suit and gently zipped it up. Dritan would be waiting for her at last mess. Now all she had to do was get through the next six hours.

  ∞ ∞

  Six hours never felt so long.

  Era sat in a recording cubic across from the colonist. “Where’s this going?”

  “The Seattle,” he said.

  Era slid a blank cube into her handheld and activated her eyepiece. The colonist couldn’t see it, but her eyepiece displayed a holo interface between the two black vidrelay rods on the table. She tapped the interface and nodded to the colonist to begin.

  “Name: Orin Xian. Message for: Hani Xian. Destination: Seattle,” he said.

  Era tried to focus on his message, tried to pay attention to ensure he didn’t say anything on the flagged list—nothing about the riots, or the president, or anything negative about the Paragon and the fleet.

  But the scene from helio sector played itself over and over in her mind. Sam pressing the pulse gun to Tesmee’s head, Tesmee’s wide eyes, Dritan inching closer.

  The Defect is a lie.

  Before everything on Earth had gone wrong, they’d been in the golden age of genetic modification—the science to solve all the world’s problems. Only it hadn’t. It’d made everything worse. That gen-mod technology caused a worldwide famine that led to the Last War. Not many were protected from the fallout.

  But before that, they’d tried to improve human immunity. It had worked, but they discovered, too late, that it affected the children of those who had been modified. So many children died from the Defect. Their organs didn’t develop right. They only lived for minutes or days after being born.

  After the wars, Infinitek Group had stepped in and provided a way to save humanity from extinction. A lucky few had made it onto their fleet, but all carried the altered genes. The Legacy Code.

  The Legacy Code was the mistake that followed them after Earth. A known fact. It couldn’t be a lie.

  The man stopped speaking, and Era tapped the vidrelay interface to end the recording. She popped the cube from her handheld and pushed to her feet.

  “Thank you,” the man said.

  She nodded and followed him to the door.

  The waiting area was empty. Era brought the cube to the table where Paige sat managing the comm cases. One of the new transfers, a narrow-faced girl with dull brown hair, sat beside her.

  “This is going to the Seattle,” Era said.

  Paige leaned back in her chair. “And?”

  “And your job is to collect the cubes, so here’s this one.”

  “But you’re so very good at doing everyone’s job. Wouldn’t you like to learn this one next?”

  The new transfer’s hand flew to her mouth, and she tittered.

  Era flushed and rotated the outgoing case. Great. Paige had a sidekick now. Like she needed to deal with two of them. Binary glitches. She unlatched it, found the container labeled Seattle, and dropped the cube in.

  Mali walked up to the table. “Is there a reason Era’s sorting comms?”

  Paige gave Mali a sweet smile. “Just showing her how it works.”

  “You were instructed to train Helice today. I’ll have the outgoing comms now. The guard’ll be by soon to pick them up.”

  “They’re ready to go.” Paige stood up and latched the case shut. She handed it to Mali and avoided making eye contact with Era.

  “Era, I need to talk to you before you leave,” Mali said. “Come with me, please.”

  Paige pursed her lips, and her face turned a nice shade of wilted-galley-green. Serves her right. Era threw her shoulders back and followed Mali.

  She led her to the end of the repository, to a table beside the tall glass wall that shielded the archives. The history of the Defect was in there. The colonists who restarted civilization would have the resources and time to find a cure.

  But right now, only the president and board had access to those files. Not a grimp addict who worked the sublevels. Era shook her head. Sam didn’t know anything about the Defect. How could he?

  “Have a seat.” Mali sat at the table and laid the comm case next to her. Era slid into one of the chairs and placed her palms flat on the cold metal table.

  She doesn’t seem upset with me, but why the private talk?

  Mali folded her hands together and regarded Era for a moment. “I need to start training my replacement soon. I want that person to be you.”

  Era’s eyes widened. “I—thank you.”

  “So is this something you’d like to do? Being Head Archivist is a big responsibility. The Paragon wi
ll be your home for the rest of your life.”

  Era looked down at her hands. Before the last few days, she’d have said yes in a heartbeat. But now? Did she want to stay here? It was the safest ship in the fleet…wasn’t it? Dritan had talked about making a home on the Paragon, finding a way to remain on board when their five-year placement terms were up. An archivist position would guarantee they’d be allowed to stay.

  The shift buzzer sounded, and Era glanced behind her. The other workers began to exit the level, and Zephyr waited for her by the door.

  “Why me?”

  Mali’s brow furrowed. “You’re young, yet responsible, and you’re a hard worker. Your father taught you better than most of the techs on this ship. I think you have a natural affinity for this type of work.”

  Era nodded and looked toward the doors again, torn between Mali’s offer and her desire to run to last mess and find Dritan. But she needed to give Mali an answer.

  Era’s father would’ve been so proud if he knew she’d been offered a position as archivist. And didn’t she love this place? The silver boxes beckoned to her from their sanctuary beyond the barrier. This job really meant something. And Dritan…he liked it here. Had the guards let him go yet?

  “If you’re not sure…”

  “No, it’s just…” Had Mali heard yet? What would she think if she knew Dritan was wrapped up in something awful? Era licked her lips. “In helio sector, during midbreak, a colonist attacked the president’s daughter.”

  Mali’s eyes widened. “You saw this?”

  “My husband knew the man from shift and stopped him from hurting her. They arrested the traitor and took my husband in…for questioning.” Era’s eyes burned, and Mali reached out to touch her hand.

  “The president will be grateful for what your husband did.”

  Era dropped her hands into her lap. “I want to. I do want to be an archivist.”

  Mali nodded. “I’d hoped you’d say yes. I had to get approval before I could ask you. We’ll start training you on the system tomorrow.” She narrowed her eyes, and Era turned to see Zephyr hurrying toward them, her face still flushed from its exposure to the super helio.

  “Everyone on free shift’s been called to observation,” Zephyr said. “We need to go. Now.”

  Era’s stomach dropped, and she gripped the table.

  “Do you know why?” Mali asked.

  “They’re airlocking a traitor.”

  Era and Zephyr joined the crowd in the stairwell. The handrail felt insubstantial beneath Era’s hand, and the bodies around her passed in and out of the edges of her blurred vision as they made the slow climb to observation. It was all so surreal. Holo.

  If only she could gesture, make the scene disappear, return her to a reality where Dritan hadn’t been taken by the guard, and a member of his crew wasn’t about to be airlocked.

  Era had shut herself in her cubic the day they airlocked the traitors on the London. She couldn’t watch it again, not after what she saw the day of the riots.

  They’d been docked at Soren for one year when the riots happened. The captain, the crew, and all of their family members blockaded themselves on the bridge to wait it out. Dritan had been working when it started, and Zephyr had to stop Era from going to find him.

  She and Zephyr huddled in a corner, sipping quin liquor and listening as the reports came in. Three ships had gone dark, including the Kyoto, which had been docked right next to them.

  The Kyoto had been dark an hour when the rioters there airlocked the captain and his crew. One of the bloated corpses drifted so close to the bridge of the London that it slammed into the glass and stayed there, staring at them through bloodshot eyes. Sightless. Empty.

  The president ended the riots by sending guards to each of the dekas. In less than a shift, the guards took back the Kyoto and airlocked the traitors.

  That was the day Era knew she couldn’t live so many levels above Dritan anymore—knew he was the half to complete her infinity.

  They reached observation. The doors were open, and no one bothered to swipe their shift cards. Era froze at the threshold, her gaze riveted to Soren’s blood-red surface.

  Someone cursed behind her, and Zephyr dragged Era onto the deck. The incoming crowd pushed them forward until they reached the front.

  At least two dozen guards had lined up across the glass expanse, their pulse guns out and primed. Chief Petroff and Tadeo flanked the president. She stood tall, the tendons in her neck taut, as her unblinking gaze swept over the gathering colonists.

  The board members were arrayed beside the chief. Four men. One woman. They represented the ten manufacturing dekas, in theory, yet each of them had lived on the flagship for their entire lives.

  Chief Petroff lifted an amplifier, a black box smaller than a handheld, to his mouth. He cleared his throat, and the sound traveled through the room.

  Tadeo stepped closer to the president, his jaw working, and adjusted his pulse gun in his grip.

  “Silence on the deck,” the chief said.

  The murmuring died down, and the president took the amplifier and lifted it to her mouth. She scanned the row of vigilant guards beside her and lifted her chin. “At the end of first shift yesterday, level six experienced a hull breach. We have completed our investigation. What happened yesterday was no accident. It was sabotage.”

  Gasps echoed through the crowd.

  President Sorenson backed up a step and switched the amplifier to her other hand. “Three maintenance crew workers have confessed to sabotaging this ship. Several of our guards were injured. Many lives could have been lost. This was their intention.”

  Three. Sam. And who else?

  Era’s legs weakened beneath her, and she raised a hand to her chest. Zephyr looped an arm around her back, lending support.

  The president paused, waiting for the noise to die down. “If we ever want to find our better world, each of us must continue to do our duty to the fleet. There may be more traitors lurking among us. We are instituting a strict curfew. All colonists must be in their assigned cubics during night shift, unless I personally grant you an exemption for critical ship work. If you witness any suspicious behavior, you must report it immediately. If anyone is found to be hiding or withholding information about such occurrences, they will be held accountable.”

  Dritan didn’t do anything. He wasn’t a traitor. No mention of the attack on Tesmee. The guards didn’t save her. Dritan did.

  Chief Petroff took the amplifier from the president’s trembling grip. She clasped her hands together over her abdomen and said something to the chief.

  He spoke into his comcuff, activated his eyepiece, and held the amplifier to his mouth.

  “The penalty for treason against the fleet is death.” The chief stood straighter. “The following colonists have been found guilty of treason—”

  The crowd erupted, and hands raised in the air. Era’s gaze traveled along an invisible line from pointing fingers to a location beyond the glass. She pressed her fist hard into her chest.

  They’d already airlocked the traitors.

  Three objects drifted through the bright stream of light that originated from outside the main airlock. Two pale objects, a third, darker—all of them too far away to see in any detail. Then they were gone, beyond the reach of the lights.

  Unbearable pressure expanded in Era’s chest, and tears sprung into her eyes.

  “Samuel Smith, Meso transfer, planned the attacks. His co-conspirators were Tatiana Carizo and Jonas Keen, also of the Meso.”

  Tears flooded Era’s vision, blurring the scene. Not Dritan.

  Zephyr pulled on Era’s arm, and they joined the subdued crowd moving toward the exit.

  “I told you Dritan would be okay,” Zephyr whispered.

  “Come to my level with me?”

  “I will.”

  ∞ ∞

  Dritan was pacing the entrance to their cubic when Era and Zephyr arrived. The heavy pressure in Era’s ribcage dissol
ved, and her limbs turned the consistency of tech adhesive gel. She rushed to him, shaky with relief, and he drew her close.

  Era held a hand up to Zephyr. “Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry about those…about your crew members,” Zephyr said.

  Dritan didn’t answer, and after a long pause, Zephyr turned and left.

  “When they said three…” Era tightened her grip on Dritan, willing the shaking to subside.

  “You should go to mess. You need to eat.” Dritan’s voice was gruff, pained.

  How could she eat after what had just happened? She needed sleep. It would take this all away. She shook her head, and Dritan swiped his card across the scanner. Era followed him into their cubic.

  He activated their helio and began to unlace his boots. He gave up before he had them off and sat down hard on the bunk, hands clenched on his thighs. Era sat next to him, but he didn’t look at her. She took off her boots, dropped them to the floor, and rested a gentle hand on his arm. “If you don’t want to talk about it right now…”

  “From the questions they asked, I think they found sabotaged panels. I think—the rivets were purposely damaged before they were installed. I’d never install a rivet that looked like that.” Dritan’s voice cracked. “Tati and Jonas covered for Sam while he did it. I never thought…”

  Era laid a hand on his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “No. I should’ve,” he said. “The way the three of them talked…I could’ve stopped them.”

  “How did they talk?”

  Dritan shrugged off her hand and crossed to the wall. He slumped against it and stared down at the crumbling black rubber tiles. “They’d all lost people on Soren. Said the kind of kak lots of people say.”

  “Like what?”

  “They called the traitors from the riots martyrs, said they died for ‘the cause.’”

  “Martyrs?”

  Dritan chewed his lower lip and didn't answer.

  “They risked all of our lives, just to get to the president.” Era hugged her knees to her chest. She hesitated, then asked the question that had been lurking at the back of her mind since helio sector. “Dritan…what’d you say to Sam to get him to give you that pulse gun?”