Legacy Code

by Autumn Kalquist

  Era jerked her hand in a gesture to bring up the cube’s memory core. Her pulse roared in her ears as she located the access data, found her eyepiece signature, and tried to wipe the last entry. The interface flickered, malfunctioning, and blanked. She was locked out of the program.

  The door beeped again, and a faint voice called from the other side of it.

  Era sucked in a breath and tried to slow her heart down. “The door’s stuck.” Her voice came out too soft, so she repeated it, louder this time.

  Mali replied, her words muffled.

  Era couldn’t leave this cubic until she’d erased the evidence of her treason. How long did she have before Mali called up a maintenance crew to force open the door?

  She stood on shaky legs and gripped the edge of the holo gear bin. It slid through her hands and crashed to the floor. The sound of it seemed impossibly loud in the small space, and it paralyzed her. Mali called out again.

  Move, Era. Focus.

  She righted the bin and grabbed the diagnostic from where it had fallen on the tile. She knelt down next to the frozen handheld and hooked the diagnostic in.

  The code came up in her eyepiece, and she scanned it, seeking the error.

  There.

  Another knock on the door.

  “I’m trying to open it from in here. I’m working on it.” Era yelled the words, but they sounded like they came from someone else. Her brain was trying to untangle the broken code before her. She let her mind take over and rewrote the code, fixing the bug. The handheld’s interface reappeared.

  She inhaled ragged breaths, brought up the archive cube once more, and accessed the memory core.

  She gestured to delete her eyepiece signature. A warning appeared.

  Unauthorized Command.

  Era narrowed her eyes. Unauthorized didn’t mean inaccessible. She’d expected this, hadn’t she?

  She tried another method. That one failed, too.

  Mali yelled something. It sounded like a question.

  “I think I figured it out.” Era closed her eyes. “One minute.”

  I think I figured it out.

  Era tried accessing the memory core using another trick, a hack her father had taught her for when the ship’s systems malfunctioned and rendered memory core data inaccessible. It could damage the data, but what other choice did she have?

  The memory core came up, and Era tried once more to delete her eyepiece signature.

  It worked.

  She bit off a giddy laugh, double-checked the memory core to be sure her signature was gone, and ripped the cube from the handheld.

  She dropped the cube into the archive case, ensured it lined up the way Mali had stored it, and placed it back on the shelf.

  The handhelds were still scattered across the floor. Heart pounding, she scooped them up, dumped them in the bin, and shoved it back on the shelf.

  Her hands were damp, and they slipped along the wire’s plastic coating as she reconnected it. She clumsily slid the panel in place and stepped away from it.

  The door opened. Mali met Era’s gaze, and Era stiffened.

  What have I done?

  It was over. Mali would know, would have to suspect. A cold chill took root in Era, and she placed her hands behind her back, pressing closer to the shelf.

  I committed treason. The penalty for treason is—

  “What happened?”

  “The door jammed. And just now—it finally opened. I don’t know what happened.” The words rushed out, the sound of them too bright, false.

  Mali pressed the inner button to keep the door from sliding shut on them. “I was getting ready to call the maintenance crew up…Oh. Come child, no more tears. Wipe your face, now.”

  Era nodded dumbly and wiped at her damp cheeks. When had she started crying?

  Did Mali really trust her so much that she didn’t suspect anything? That she couldn’t see the obvious?

  Mali gave her a kindly smile. Era sniffed and forced her legs to move, to propel her out of storage.

  She’d done it. She’d committed treason and hadn’t gotten caught. They would never know she looked at the cube.

  But now that she knew the truth, what would she do with it?

  ∞

  Era followed Mali to the recording station and picked up one of the handhelds, a vidrelay, and a handful of blank comm cubes to record messages on.

  The Defect can be fixed.

  “Eight is empty.” Mali pointed to a recording cubic at the far end of the wall.

  Era waved a waiting colonist over and led him to the compartment. She set up the vidrelay, then activated her handheld and eyepiece. “Where’s this going?”

  The man sat down. “The London.”

  Three in five infants survive the surgeries.

  Era retreated to her own chair across the table from him, tapped the holo between the vidrelay rods, and gestured to start the recording.

  My baby might live.

  The man began to speak, but his words melded together, became meaningless. He could be making plans for another riot right now, and she wouldn’t have noticed. Or cared.

  What would happen when she refused to abort? Because she couldn’t go along with it. Not now.

  What would Medic Faust do? Did she know the truth? How could the woman perform abortions if she did?

  Era squeezed her hands in her lap.

  She’d have to admit she knew an operation could fix her baby. Only she couldn’t admit that, because then they’d know she’d looked at the archives. And then they’d know who added the cube to the order.

  How could she save her child without giving away her treason? Some deep part of her had believed everything she’d ever been taught about the Defect. She’d never considered what she’d do if the traitor turned out to be right.

  The enormity of the truth settled within her, and she shivered.

  The man cleared his throat, finished now, and she shut off the vidrelay. She rose to her feet and walked him to the door. He left the cubic, but Era didn’t call the next person in. She stole a glance around the waiting area. Paige and Helice were engrossed in a conversation, and no one else looked her way.

  She closed the door and pressed her back against it, staring at the scuffed metal panels across from her. She’d tell Medic Faust what she knew and ask her to save her child. If the medic refused to save her baby, she’d threaten to tell the fleet the truth about the Defect. It was the only thing she had to bargain with.

  But could she really keep this secret in exchange for her own baby’s survival? The rest of the fleet would have to know sometime. Her stomach twisted.

  She’d patch that panel when it failed. She had to save her own baby first. If she couldn’t even do that, how could she help anyone else?

  But if she gave the medic that ultimatum, threatened to spill their secret, they’d arrest her and airlock her. She needed a back-up plan. She didn’t want to involve Zephyr, but she couldn’t do this alone.

  Era clenched her hands into fists and stumbled back to the table. She knew what she had to do.

  Technically, she needed a witness to watch her record a message to Dritan. But what was one more law broken after what she’d done today? What she planned to do?

  Era sat where the colonist had and dropped his cube next to her. She took a new, blank cube and pushed it into the handheld.

  What should she tell Dritan? She couldn’t tell him everything, but she had to tell him something. In case it all went wrong.

  She sat up straight, tapped the vidrelay holo and began the recording. Her eyepiece would give away the fact that she had no witness, that she was recording her own message, so she took it off and set it aside.

  “Name: Era Corinth. Message for: Dritan Corinth. Destination: Soren.”

  She paused and waited a full minute to begin speaking. Whoever sorted cubes down on Soren didn’t need to hear any part of her message.

  “I know you’ve been waiting on news from me. Our baby…our ba
by has the Defect. But I found out something else, something I shouldn’t have. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. Not like this.

  “I’m sorry I have to do what I’m about to do, and that it might cause trouble for you, but…I have to. Please don’t be worried about me. I miss you every day.”

  Era pressed her lips together and tried to look confident. She should tell him he’d hear from her soon, that she was planning to save their baby, but pulling Zephyr into this was bad enough. She wouldn’t drag Dritan into it too. Zephyr’s father might be able to protect her, but who would protect Dritan? He’d end up airlocked, like his crew members. The less he knew, the better.

  “I love you,” she said. She put the eyepiece back on and gestured to turn off the vidrelay. For the first time in months, her body felt light. The heavy weight she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying was gone. This plan was crazy, terrifying even, but it was a plan.

  Era accessed the holovid she’d recorded and clipped it, deleting the parts where she’d worn her eyepiece.

  She took the cube from the handheld, set it off to the side, and inserted a blank one.

  Someone’s gonna walk in on me.

  But she couldn’t risk locking herself in a cubic twice in one day. Not when she’d already been caught once. She’d have to take her chances.

  Era sat up straight, cleared her throat, and hit record. She didn’t bother removing her eyepiece. No need to hide her treason this time.

  “My name is Era Corinth…and I’m a traitor. I illegally accessed the archives, but I hope that once I share what I learned, you can forgive my treason.

  “What we’ve been told about the Defect is a lie. The truth about the Defect can be found on archive cube CD-1dy34b. Three out of five defective newborns can be saved through surgery. Our children don’t have to be aborted.”

  Era paused, letting her truth sink in for her imaginary audience.

  “I’m recording this comm as a fail-safe. I intend to ask my medic on the Paragon to save my child. I believe there’s a good chance they’ll charge me with treason once they realize what I’ve done. But I have to try to save my baby.”

  The words caught in Era’s throat, and she had to close her eyes and take a deep breath before continuing.

  “If they charge me—if they prevent me from sharing what I’ve found—I will ensure my discoveries are shared with the fleet. In fact, if you’re watching this now, I probably failed to save my child. But with this knowledge…you might be able to save yours.”

  Era stared into the vidrelay for a moment longer, then shut it off. She pulled out the cube and strode to the far wall. This wasn’t something she could carry around with her. She popped one of the panels off and nestled her fail-safe in a jumble of wires.

  A recording cubic had to be near the bottom of any maintenance priority list. And who would ever think she’d hide it in the very room she’d recorded it in? No one would be looking for this here. No one except Zephyr, if the worst came to pass.

  She reattached the panel and picked up Dritan’s comm cube in one hand and the colonist’s comm in the other.

  A flutter passed through her belly. Whether it was the baby or her own renewed hope, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She had a plan. She had a way to save her child and a way to protect herself if things didn’t go well.

  This could work. It had to.

  Era exited the recording cubic and headed straight for the table where Paige and Helice sat collecting comms.

  Paige looked up and scowled. She stood, the outgoing message case in her grasp. “I’m done sorting. Sorry. You’re too late. The chief is here.”

  Era’s hand went to her belly. Chief Petroff stood in front of the archivist station’s high counter, gripping the archive cube case. Mali worked behind the station, her eyepiece activated. Zephyr stood by her side, her face drawn and pale. Zephyr?

  Era’s scalp prickled, and time seemed to slow. Why was Zephyr here? “I’m taking the case to Mali.”

  Helice fidgeted in her chair, looking at Paige.

  Paige narrowed her eyes. “Just because you—”

  Enough of this glitch. Era wrenched the case from Paige’s grasp and slammed it down on the table. She flipped open the lid and dropped her cube to Dritan into the Soren container and the colonist’s cube in the container for the London.

  “Mali will—”

  “I’m taking it.” Era closed the case and yanked it away as Paige reached out to grab it.

  Era started toward the archivist station and froze. Zephyr was staring at her, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Mali’s somber attention was directed at something only she could see on the stationary’s holo.

  The air around Era seemed to gather a charge, and her legs grew heavy, like someone had dialed up the grav system.

  Her body begged her to run the other way, but her legs took her forward, toward a scene that made no sense. Something was very wrong. They knew.

  Zephyr took a few steps toward Era, one arm outstretched.

  Era gave the message shipment to Chief Petroff without making eye contact and waited. Her muscles tensed, and her pulse thrummed in her ears. He would arrest her. Why else would Mali be looking at her like that?

  The chief said something to Mali and strode away, message to Dritan in one case, Era’s treasonous cube order addition in the other. She let her gaze follow him out the doors, and she exhaled when they slid shut behind him. He hadn’t arrested her. They didn’t know what she’d done.

  But if they didn’t know…

  Zephyr grabbed Era’s hand. Mali removed her eyepiece. She was crying.

  Era looked from Mali to Zephyr and back.

  A darkness bloomed within her, sucking her in, dragging her down. She took a step back, shaking her head. A moan rose in her throat and stuck there. Her intuition broke through, finally relaying the message it’d been sending since she first caught sight of Zephyr.

  “I’m so sorry, child. There’s been an accident on Soren.”

  As if a breach had opened, all air was sucked from the repository. Era pressed a fist to her chest, and Zephyr squeezed her other hand tighter.

  “The report says there was a cave-in. No survivors.” Mali’s voice sounded far away, muffled like a damaged holovid.

  “No,” Era said. “No. Not his crew. I just got a message from him—”

  “It was his crew.” Mali’s voice was firm, denying all hope.

  “They need to keep looking, then. They have oxygen, ways to survive…” Era took a step toward Mali and tried to shake off Zephyr’s grasp. “What did the message say?” Era’s voice cracked at the end of her words.

  Mali moved around the station and touched Era’s arm. “Executive got the message yesterday. The accident happened three days ago.”

  “He could still be alive—”

  “They’ve scanned the area of the cave-in and have detected no life.”

  “Tech can be wrong.”

  “It’s been three days. And they don’t report loss of life until they’re certain. I’m sorry.”

  Era bent over, clutching her chest, the tiles beneath her blurring in and out of focus.

  Three days. No sign of life.

  Emergency supplies lasted two.

  Punishment. Losing her husband, her baby defective, just like what happened to the traitor.

  I’ll never do anything wrong again. I’ll be a model colonist, live quietly, not question things. Please let him be alive.

  But who was listening?

  The universe didn’t care who lived and died. Soren had no say in it. People just died. They just did, and there was never a reason.

  Her eyes burned, and her legs gave out beneath her. She crumpled to the cold floor. I knew what would happen the day he left. I knew. I knew he’d never come back.

  A strangled sob made it past the pain in her throat, and hot tears slid down her cheeks. She drew her knees in to her chest and rocked back and forth, barely aware of Zephyr and Mali by
her side, rubbing her neck, squeezing her arms, saying things she couldn’t make out.

  Era tasted the salt of her tears. She dropped her face onto her knees and wept.

  He was never coming back.

  “Get up, Era. Come on. Let’s go back to your cubic.” Zephyr pulled on her arm.

  Era let Zephyr and Mali drag her to her feet. Mali handed her a suit scrap, and Era wiped uselessly at her nose, at the tears still streaming down her face.

  “Take her back. Stay with her,” Mali said.

  Zephyr took Era’s arm and led her to the repository doors. Everyone in the waiting area stared, but Era couldn’t stop crying. The blackness had swallowed her. She didn’t care what they thought. Let them see it.

  Everyone had lost someone. Why’d they bury it, pretend it was all okay?

  Until someone didn’t. Like the traitor. He hadn’t been able to live with what had been taken from him.

  Could she?

  Era pressed the wet scrap up to her mouth and allowed Zephyr to drag her down the stairs and through the corridors. People stepped out of the way and averted their eyes.

  When they got to Era’s cubic, she stood still, numb from the inside out. Zephyr gently removed Era’s shift card from her pocket and opened the cubic. Era would have to move back to the singles sector now, back with Zephyr.

  Zephyr activated the helio, illuminating the space, and Era stumbled to the bunk and collapsed onto it, the pain swelling in her again.

  Never coming back.

  She drew Dritan’s pillow to her like she had every night since he’d gone. The scent of him was faint, but still there. She buried her face in it, and silent sobs wracked her body.

  She heard Zephyr fumbling around on the shelf next to the bunk and felt a hand on her back.

  “Drink some of this,” Zephyr said.

  Era sat up and took the canteen Zephyr offered her, but just cried harder. She bent over, clutching her belly.

  Zephyr held up the clear package of pills. “They gave you grimp?”

  Era nodded, and Zephyr squeezed one from the pack. “Take it.”

  “No.” Era tried to catch her breath. “The president killed him. She killed Dritan. She’s been lying to us about the Defect. They can save my baby.”