He unzipped her suit.
Tears gathered in Era’s eyes, and a hard lump expanded in her throat. “Don’t do this, Tadeo, please,” she whispered.
The chief released her and forced her sleeves off her arms, ripping the suit away. It fell to the floor, and the cold air hit her sweat-soaked skin. Goosebumps lifted along the length of her body. She wrapped her arms across her exposed breasts and whimpered, shame flooding her. The chief pressed the pulse gun’s icy barrel against her neck.
Tadeo’s eyes flicked from her swollen belly to the chief. “We can’t…” he said, his voice rough.
“It’s Defective,” the chief said. “Set to be aborted tomorrow. She tampered with the archives, erased data we need to settle on a new Earth. She knew the penalty.”
“No! I didn’t erase anything. I didn’t mean to. I just had to know the truth.” Era’s voice shook. “My baby—”
The barrel pressed harder into Era’s skin, silencing her.
“But Chief, sir—”
“Raines.” The chief’s voice was hard, edged with unspoken threat.
Tadeo threw his shoulders back in the conditioned response of one trained to respond to commands without thought. But his eyes darted, wary, between Era and the chief, and his hands were balled into tight fists. A glimmer of hope burgeoned in Era’s chest. Tadeo took a step forward.
The chief dropped the pulse gun from Era’s neck and pushed her away. She stumbled to the side and hit her arm hard on the control panel. She cradled it against her bare breasts as the chief walked up to Tadeo and stopped an inch from his face. Tadeo didn’t back down.
“Remember McGill?” the chief asked. “They told you all he went back to his home deka. Sent back ‘cause he couldn’t handle the shame of a traitor nearly killing Tesmee with his pulse gun.”
Tadeo stood straighter, his jaw working.
The chief lifted the pulse gun and gestured with it. “McGill was in on it…He was working with that traitor to kill Tesmee.” His voice rose. “He gave that traitor his pulse gun. I airlocked him myself. Fleet doesn’t need to know we had a traitor in the guard. I’d do it again if I thought, even for a second, we had other traitors in the guard. Do you understand?”
Tadeo’s eye twitched, and he slowly nodded.
Era let out a small moan and looked toward the door. She had to get away. The chief pointed the pulse gun at her and gestured to the door that led into the airlock. Era took a few hesitant steps toward it, her gaze shifting between Tadeo and the chief.
“Activate it. It’s got to look like she did it,” Petroff said.
Era’s lips parted as Tadeo passed Dritan’s shift card over the control panel. Zephyr will believe I committed suicide. She won’t even question it. She’ll think I killed myself because Dritan died and because they were taking my baby.
The fail-safe might’ve worked. Why didn’t I try harder to get her to listen?
Tadeo pressed a button, and the alarms sounded.
Era reached toward Tadeo. “They’re lying to all of us about the Defect.”
The chief pressed the pulse gun into her temple. “Open the door.”
Tadeo hesitated, but swiped Dritan’s shift card across the scanner.
“No, wait. My baby can survive. Please, let me have the baby. I don’t care what you do with me after that. I have proof. I can show you. They can save the baby—”
Chief Petroff shoved Era into the airlock. She twisted, trying to get back into the control room, but the door slid closed, nearly trapping her fingers.
She straightened, teeth chattering from the frigid air, and turned to face them. The alarms blared, deafening, echoing off the metal walls of the airlock. She held one hand over the swell of her belly and banged the other against the glass. “Don’t do this! My baby can be saved. I won’t tell anyone!”
The chief watched her with his arms crossed, an impassive expression on his face. Tadeo stood beside him, clenching and unclenching his fists, but didn’t move to help her.
The grimp was gone.
Era began to hyperventilate as she banged the glass, over and over, until Tadeo turned his face away.
Would she feel herself dying?
When the airlock opened, she’d be swept into space, the air stolen from her lungs. Her bones would crack in the cold, and she’d spend her last moments of consciousness with nothing between her and the angry red planet that had stolen so much. Soren.
Chief Petroff and Tadeo blurred before her, and she used one hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
She rested both palms against the swell of her belly.
I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.
The old Earth religions taught about life after death. But those gods never existed. There was only alive or dead. Breathing or not breathing. At least now she wouldn’t have to live without Dritan and their baby.
She began to count the rivets in the floor, pushing down her panic. How long until the airlock opened?
The alarm blared louder, and its pace quickened.
No. Her last image could not be of this ship.
Era lifted her wrist and focused on her infinity tattoo. She took a deep sputtering breath and closed her eyes.
Dritan. The curves of his well-muscled body, his high cheekbones, his full lips. The feeling of his strong, warm arms around her, and his hazel eyes looking into hers. Safe.
He’d come to her after his shift that day, two weeks after the riots. He’d washed and pressed his grease-stained sublevel suit, had tried to clean up, look good for her.
He’d run a hand through his dark curls, pulling on them, so nervous to ask the question he’d come to ask.
“I want to come back to you every night,” he’d said. “I want to be paired with you. Do you want that, too?”
Yes.
The portal groaned behind her.
Era swept into space, the air stolen from her lungs, her bones cracking in pain from the frigid cold.
Her eyes adjusted, and she saw the stars.
Beautiful, twinkling against the vast expanse. Sparkling promises of a better world waiting.
Darkness closed in around the edges of her vision, and the stars blinked out.
∞ ∞
A Better World Awaits. The fleet's journey continues in Paragon: Book Two of Legacy Code. (Read on for an excerpt.)
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Thank you for reading Legacy Code. I hope you'll continue the journey with Paragon. There are many more twists to come and mysteries to unravel.
Are you interested in the source of the Defect and what happened before the Infinitek fleet left Earth? Defect is a prequel story my readers asked for because they were curious about what happened on Earth before the events in my Legacy Code series. You may have seen the Defect novella episodes available on Amazon, but in a few short months, the rest of the Defect story will be released in novel format.
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Tadeo’s pulse roared in his ears, and the darkness came for him. He’d had this nightmare before. About another girl, in an airlock on a different ship. But this was real. And the airlock control panel in front of him counted down the seconds until it would end.
The traitor, Era Corinth, screamed on the other side of the glass barrier, slamming her fists against it again and again. Red lights flashed in time with the alarms inside the airlock, and their warning drowned out her pleas. The hypnotic pulse of red swept over her tear-stained face, her naked breasts, her bare pregnant stomach.
Bile rose in Tadeo’s throat, and he turn
ed his face away. Kit. Era reminded him of Kit. Why else would every bone in his body be telling him to save a traitor? Like Era, Kit had been petite, fine-featured, with short hair. And she… Tadeo gritted his teeth and pushed the memories away, like he had so many times before. He stole a glance at Chief Petroff, but the man stood expressionless, hands crossed over his chest.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Raines.” Chief narrowed his eyes, making the wrinkles around them deepen. “She’s a traitor. I meant what I said. I airlocked McGill, and I’ll space any other guard who goes in with traitors.”
Tadeo focused on the floor, his heart thudding unevenly. Mere minutes ago, he’d nearly freed Era and cost himself his own life. Terrorists on their ship. A traitor in the guard. Era, an innocent-looking girl, tampering with files they needed to settle on a new Earth. Why was all this happening now?
Scuffed tiles, scratched metal, blinking lights. The scene blurred before him.
The thumping of fists against glass stopped.
Tadeo glanced at the airlock, expecting Era to be gone, the airlock wide open, but she stood still. She held one hand to her swollen stomach and gazed down at the infinity tattoo on her other wrist—the symbol of her pairing with the dead husband she’d soon join.
Tadeo’s stomach lurched. Era’s pregnancy was defective and had been scheduled for termination in a few hours.
“They’re lying to all of us about the Defect.… They can save the baby.” Era had said that in a final attempt to try to convince them not to airlock her. She was hysterical. Delusional. She’d committed treason, and if he helped her, he’d die with her.
He’d broken the rules once with Kit. He’d never break them again.
The console blinked its final countdown. In ten seconds, Era would be gone, and this nightmare would be over—for her, at least. Sweat dripped down Tadeo’s back, and his stiff, navy guard suit stuck to him everywhere, not letting his body heat out or the stale sublevel air in.
00:08
00:07
I can stop it.
00:06
00:05
00:04
00:03
She chose to commit treason. The penalty is death.
00:02
00:01
00:00
Sirens erupted in the control cubic.
Era was gone.
Tadeo’s chest tightened. The dark void of space gaped at him from the empty airlock, and he glimpsed the planet the fleet orbited—a half-circle of deep red. Soren. Swirling clouds the color of rust moved across its surface, and down below, noxious air and dust choked life from anyone suicidal enough to walk its surface.
Suicide. Era was gone, like she’d never existed. They’d never retrieve her body, and they’d rule this a suicide. Which is exactly what the president wanted.
Chief gestured to Era’s discarded suit and boots, and Tadeo grabbed them and followed him into the corridor.
The door slid shut behind them, and the heat and deep hum of the power core replaced the blaring sirens. Long, thin lume bars flickered from the ceiling every few feet, unevenly illuminating the scarred metal walls.
As Tadeo followed the chief down the corridor, his mind raced, trying to grapple with what had just happened. They passed a long row of storage cubics, finally coming to the one Nyssa had interrogated Era in.
The chief swiped his shift card across the scanner, and the cubic opened, revealing a small room with a single metal chair and silver case. The chief grabbed the case and shut the door. The lume bar above them flickered in an uneven rhythm, highlighting Chief’s silver-brown hair and bringing out the harsh lines on his face.
“Lieutenant Raines.”
Tadeo stood straighter, throwing his shoulders back at the tone in Chief’s voice. Guard training had ingrained it in him, made it a habit.
“Yes, sir.” Tadeo’s voice came out deep and strong, like he wasn’t ready to puke all over the chipped, grease-coated tiles.
“Night shift bridge crew will see the alarm on their consoles soon,” Chief said roughly. “They’ll send an emergency maintenance crew down the main stairwell to close the airlock. I’m taking stairwell B to the president. Take C. Shred the husband’s shift card on command level and drop the traitor’s clothes down the textile recyc chute. Understood?”
Tadeo tightened his grip on Era’s suit and boots, and a hand went to his pocket, tracing the shape of her husband’s shift card.
“Raines. Do you understand?”
Tadeo focused on Chief’s creased face. The president had said this all had to be done in secret—that the colonists would panic if they found out Era had tampered with the archives.
But who else had they interrogated down here—airlocked without anyone knowing? McGill had been Chief’s right-hand man before he’d been sent away—no, before Chief had airlocked him.
“Yes… sir. But Chief—about McGill…”
Chief’s nostrils flared, and he stepped closer, poking a finger at Tadeo’s chest. “You keep your mouth shut about him. No one needs to know we had a traitor in the guard. Not anyone. That’s classified information.”
“But, sir, how…” Tadeo’s voice came out strained, uncomprehending. “He was in the president’s guard—he was second only to you.”
“And now, by the president’s choice, it appears you have replaced him—”
“But how did you—”
“McGill was a traitor,” Chief sneered. “You don’t need to know the specifics. Lieutenant Raines, do you sympathize with the traitors? Because that’s what it looked like back there.”
Tadeo clenched his jaw tight. “No, sir.”
“Then do not misstep again. Do not ever disobey a direct order. I wouldn’t want to airlock the heir to the Meso, but I’m sure they’d have no problem finding your replacement.”
Tadeo swallowed back the bitter taste in his mouth and challenged the chief’s hostile glare with one of his own. That this man, a former tech, should be the president’s most trusted guard, and Tadeo, son of a captain, had to do everything he said without question… it wasn’t right. But the chief had earned his position, and Tadeo would do his duty for as long as he was in the guard.
“Answer me, Raines. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
“You do not speak of this mission. Not to anyone.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Recyc those things,” he said, pointing to Era’s belongings, “then meet me at command level lounge. The president wants to brief you. Don’t get caught.”
He turned and strode down the corridor, silver metal case in his grasp, and didn’t look back.
Tadeo wiped the sweat from his brow and started running. A rush of adrenaline surged through his veins as he headed down a side corridor. He sprinted past dented metal walls and turned left at the first cross-corridor, toward stairwell C. The main stairwell met this sector, and if he didn’t get through it fast enough, the emergency crew might see him.
Most of the fleet’s recent traitors had been subs, working down here. Miles of dark corridors, hidden spaces to do things you didn’t want to be caught doing. The sublevels were the seedy underbelly of every ship—the place where you could get away with breaking the rules. Kit resurfaced in his mind, along with the thrill he’d felt every time he’d broken the rules with her. This felt like that. Exciting. Forbidden.
The corridor widened, and high ceilings replaced the cramped feel of the earlier sectors. The hum of the power core was even louder here, and the acrid scent of hot metal reached his nostrils. He slowed to a walk to get his bearings.
Tangles of thick metal pipes extended deep into the sector on either side of him, and a low barrier comprised of metal slats separated the walkway from the pipes. Was this sector heating—or life support? He was certain this was the way to stairwell C, but he didn’t know the sublevel sectors well on this ship.
Loud voices echoed down the corridor and seemed to bounce off the ceiling and meld with the vibra
tions of the core. Another shot of adrenaline spiked through Tadeo, and his heart beat a wild rhythm against his rib cage. He could not be seen down here.
He glanced around, but there was nowhere to hide unless he leapt over the barrier. The space between the metal slats and the pipes left barely enough room to stand, and he didn’t have protective gear on. Let’s hope they aren’t heating.
He leaned over the barrier closest to him and spit. His saliva hit the nearest pipe and oozed down the rusted metal. Not heating, then.
The voices grew louder. Tadeo dropped Era’s belongings over the divide and took one more look down the empty corridor. Then he leapt over the barrier sideways, wedging his body in the tight space.
Every muscle tensed as he peered out between the slats, and sweat burned his eyes. Would they come this way? Would they see him? His navy blue guard uniform might blend in with the dirty gray color of the pipes behind him. Maybe.
He should be afraid, worried, but all he felt was a thrill at the thought of getting caught. Then he saw it.
Kak.
His shift card lay on the floor, bright white against the grease-stained tiles. His throat constricted, and the thrill faded. His card must have been knocked off his suit when he dove over the barrier. If the subs saw it and picked it up, they’d know he was down here when Era died.
“The maintenance airlock,” one of them called.
They were close. Too close for him to get to the card in time.
“Sector seven,” yelled another.
Tadeo held his breath and counted the sets of boots as they pounded past. Four sets. The sublevel emergency crew.
Not a single boot touched his card.
When their voices receded, he let out a breath, waited several more seconds, then hauled himself over the divide. He grabbed Era’s gear, shoved his card in his pocket, and took off down the corridor.
His chest lightened, and a giddy feeling overtook him, the old feeling of doing something wrong and getting away with it.
He sprinted faster, pushing himself, and his muscles responded, remembering what it was like when he had free run of the Meso. How he’d run the open levels of the deka he grew up on for miles and miles.
Legacy Code Page 11
