Dr. Kelsey glanced up from her holographic display, hands in the middle of turning a 3D image of a woman, her body a bottom-heavy hourglass. She frowned.
"What was that?" she asked.
"I want to speak to Spencer Evans."
"Why? You're home. You don't need a monitor here."
"I..." She hadn't considered the fact that returning to the center had altered the chain of command. They hadn't been on Ecrune for more than six weeks but Spencer Evans had been everything to her while they were there. Her boss, her guardian, her confidante, and her guiding force...
"Did you have a question about your assignment on Ecrune?" She raised an eyebrow, the arch disappearing beneath thick cut bangs.
"No. I was unsure of the chain of command once we returned. I wish to make a complaint about my new roommate assignment."
"Your complaint is noted."
"So, I'm supposed to report to you?" Stephanie asked.
"No," Dr. Kelsey turned back to her work. "You're supposed to wait for this morning's assembly."
"There's an assembly?"
"Look at the time, Stephanie. You're going to be late for gym."
"Sorry, Dr. Kelsey. I didn't know we were resuming regular activities straight away."
"Noted. Future debriefings will be more thorough." She waved a hand in the direction of the door and Stephanie backed out, closing the door behind her.
She turned down the hall, heading to the gymnasium. As she did, she brushed a hand over her wrist, opening her coms display. She flicked open the messaging program, opening the text function. She didn't think she'd be able to keep the emotion out of her voice.
You're gone?
She flicked her finger through the projected display to send. A message bounced back and she bit her lip, frowning as she read.
Services have been temporarily suspended. Please contact your service provider to change settings.
They'd cut her off from communicating with the outside world.
She suddenly felt the weight of the underground facility pressing in on her. Floors and floors of locked doors and coded elevators. Like a labyrinth locking her in. An underground prison. Her chest felt tight.
Born in a cage, raised in a cage, never see the cage until you go outside. But now she'd been pushed right back in. Caroline was right. She had to get out. Had to find the planet that Caroline had shown her; Sanctuary. A place where everyone was welcome and offered protection.
How are you going to do that exactly? Maia drawled.
Maia. Stephanie was surprised by the relief she felt at hearing the other woman's voice. She thought she'd lost her.
You're not getting rid of me that easily.
Stephanie snorted. Nothing about the past couple of days could be considered easy.
So, how are we getting out of here?
By getting further in.
Stephanie straightened her posture and jogged toward the gym, a plan forming at the back of her mind.
Chapter Fourteen
Ivan came to with the taste of copper in his mouth and a ringing sound in his ears. He groaned, trying to push off the floor. His arms failed him, a rubbery mess of pinched nerves. His face landed in the carpet again, stinging his cheek.
Caroline.
He winced. Moving at a snail’s pace, he wiggled his arms out from underneath his body, clenching and unclenching his fists until the circulation returned. Pins and needles danced up his arms.
He tried to get up again.
This time, he made it to a sitting position before his head started spinning and he felt something in his gut tighten in protest. He leaned to the side and threw up. Yellow. Foaming. Sour. Nothing but stomach acid. How long had he been lying there?
He leaned back against the bed.
Slow and steady breaths.
He took in the wreckage of the room, trying to piece together what had happened. His memories felt disjointed.
He remembered coming in.
Caroline opened the door, barely wide enough for him to slip inside. She leaned against it after she closed it. Her eyes were wide, dark circles like shadows smeared beneath her eyes. Blonde hair floating around her face like a cloud.
She looked haunted.
He'd brought a bottle of alco-synth wine.
Gone to kiss her and she flinched away.
She had to tell him something.
Pain throbbed through his skull as he tried to remember what she'd told him.
He remembered being punched in the face. Then shot with something when he went down.
He ran his hand over his legs, remembering the low buzz of pain before everything faded away. No blood. Just a stunner.
Ivan pushed himself to his feet, using the bed to support his weight. He stumbled to the coms device in the wall. He slid his hand over the panel, opening the display. Room service. Movies. Adult entertainment and services. Reception.
He slid his finger through the word ‘reception’ and waited for someone to pick up.
A young woman appeared on screen. Dark hair, dark eyes. A red shirt with a high collar.
"How may I help you?" she asked, staring through him. Her eyes glazed over the room without reacting.
"I need to call the police."
"My records show that two officers recently visited that room."
"What?"
"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises. Our guest has checked out."
"Wait, you're not listening. Somebody kidnapped her."
Her eyes softened. "I'm sorry, but Ms. Walters was arrested."
"No," he frowned. It hurt his head.
"I can give you ten minutes to leave, but I'm going to have to call security if you haven't left by then."
"They weren't police officers. You've made a mistake."
"I assure you, their badge numbers were registered and they had a warrant for Ms. Jacobson's arrest. If you wish to contact the authorities once you leave the hotel, you are entitled to do so. You cannot, however, continue to use the hotel's resources without checking in."
"But-"
"Good day."
The screen went dark as she disconnected.
Ivan sat down on the bed. He dropped his head in his hands, skull throbbing.
What had Caroline done?
He searched his memory. Surely they would have said something if they were police officers. They would have announced the crime while they were arresting her. Read Caroline her rights. Had they done so? Had he fought a police officer?
Something about the situation rang hollow.
Ivan pushed himself to his feet.
He glanced around the room, assessing the damage before he left. Trying to commit the scene to memory in the hopes it would jog something in his subconscious later. Broken lamp, a thin smear of blood on the carpet. He bent down. Was it Caroline's blood? His? One of the officer's?
A glimmer of light caught his attention and he went to his hands and knees, peering under the bed.
A bracelet.
He picked it up, stuffing it into his pocket before he headed for the door.
He walked quickly, head down as he passed a pair of security guards in the hallway. He slipped into the elevator.
"First floor," he murmured.
The doors closed and he was left staring at his reflection. His nose was swollen, a dark bruise spread across one cheekbone.
He clenched his fists. The muscles in his back tightened and heat flushed through his face. He drew in a shaky breath.
The doors opened and he stepped out, ignoring the woman at the front desk as he rushed outside.
It was raining, a low drizzle. The orange glow of the street lights cast amber pools in the gray.
The water stung as it hit his face, prickling into the scrapes. His knuckles stung.
He stopped.
"Fuck."
He turned in the opposite direction, jogging toward the nearest cab share rank.
There was no way Caroline had been taken by
the police. Not if he'd been fighting. Not if they left him lying face down in the carpet and hadn't brought him in for assaulting an officer.
* * *
Ivan sat in a small interview room, the metal table cold beneath his hands. He had his fists clenched together, to keep from fidgeting. His right knee bounced up and down.
He felt uneasy. Like he'd done something wrong, but he couldn't quite place what it was he'd done.
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there.
Time seemed to have hit pause the second he entered the room.
He breathed an impatient sigh.
The door opened with a screech.
He stood.
Two people entered the room. A man, short and round at the middle. A woman, tall and thin. She moved quickly, eyes darting to the corners of the room.
"Sit down," the man said.
He sat.
"You want to file a missing person?"
"Not missing. I saw them take her."
"The police officers?"
"They weren't police."
"Well, this should be simple enough to sort out. What did you say her name was again?"
"Caroline Walters."
"Do you have her ID number?"
He shook his head.
"Birthday?"
"No."
"Any genetic material?" the male asked.
"Place of birth?" the woman added.
"Sorry."
The woman sighed. "How well did you know this woman?"
He swallowed. "She was my friend."
"Uh-huh."
The woman pulled up a tablet and swiped a finger over the bio-lock. A tinny voice welcomed officer Simmons.
She started typing, a small frown causing a crease between her brows.
The screen flashed red. Beeped.
“How did you say you met this woman again?” she asked.
“She was my friend.”
“How did you meet her?”
“I...” he frowned. He knew they were close friends. He’d give his life for her if he had to. He searched his memory for the point where it had started.
The police officers stared at him.
“I can’t remember.”
Chapter Fifteen
Somebody bumped past Stephanie, the contact brief enough that all she got was a wash of emotions, no thoughts or memories attached. The feeling tightened her stomach and made her skin feel cold. Anxiety?
What do you think, Maia?
Too many people, Maia muttered from her corner in Stephanie’s mind.
Stephanie glanced around the room. Its arched ceilings were lower than a planet side ballroom would have been, but high enough that they almost looked like the real deal. A holographic chandelier hung low in the center of the room and every now and then the top of some tall dancer’s head passed through it.
She could see how Maia would think there were too many people. The low population on Ecrune and going straight from the cult to living in the underground center where they trained meant she’d never seen so many people in the same space before.
I didn’t realize you had so much cosmopolitan experience, Maia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Stephanie checked her mental walls. She’d obviously let her internal thoughts spill into their shared space.
Sorry, I must be nervous. Stephanie quickly patched up the hole and took a slow deep breath to calm her sympathetic nervous system.
I still haven’t seen him, Stephanie glanced around the room. A young woman in a sparkling dress took the last glass from Stephanie’s tray and she turned back toward the kitchens.
“Get a move on, new girl,” another waitress pushed past her to grab a newly refilled tray.
Stephanie frowned. The brief contact had been enough to see the other woman resented her because she was younger and prettier and it was a stark reminder that nobody wanted middle-aged living waitresses. She took a tray and went back into the function room, dodging a senator who leered at her, thick eyebrows drooping over predator eyes.
She shuddered.
Thank god he wasn’t the target.
She scanned the crowd again, circling around the edge of the room, pausing as people took glasses from the tray. He had to be here somewhere. There was no way she was going to fail her first assignment.
There.
A tall man in his mid-thirties with dark hair, his dress uniform pressed to perfection, the blue, red, and gold glittering under the holographic chandelier. Or maybe it was the row of medals pinned to his chest.
He stood in a small group, head bent as he listened to a petite blonde girl.
Stephanie’s breath caught in her throat.
Her feet moved toward the group.
It’s not her, Maia said, voice low. You know it can’t be her.
But she looked like her. Especially from this angle, wisps of blonde struggling out of the neat hairstyle pinned to the crown of her head, held back by a thin tiara. Her small nose upturned slightly at the end, full lips seeming to rest in a perpetual pout before breaking into a smile, one dimple winking into existence.
Stephanie held her tray in front of her as she came up between the girl and the general.
She cleared her throat.
They turned.
Wide blue-gray eyes stared into hers.
Her heart plummeted.
“Drink?” she asked.
The girl - young woman - took a glass. She tilted her head to the side, as though in question. Stephanie swallowed. Her nose felt itchy and everything went blurry for a second, like she was looking at the young woman through a waterfall. She blinked and her vision cleared. A line of moisture traced its way down her cheek.
Stephanie turned away, heat flooding her cheeks as she realized she was crying.
Fuck. She was supposed to be getting military plans from the general, not standing there crying because she saw someone who kind of looked like Caroline from far away.
She turned quickly, knocking into the general. The tray seemed to explode out of her hands, wine and glasses going in all different directions as it clattered to the floor.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”
There was a small hand towel in the front pocket of her apron and she whipped it out, dabbing at the wine that covered the general. Her hands brushed against his uniform, the badges rough under her hands. No good. She needed a stronger connection. She patted the wine off his face.
He pushed her away.
“Excuse me,” he bowed to the group before turning on his heel and walking quickly toward the bathrooms.
Stephanie bent to pick up the pieces, loading empty wine glasses onto the tray. She called up a cleaning drone to mop the floor and stood awkwardly, waiting for it to arrive. The small bot swooped down to her location and started suctioning up the mess.
“Are you okay?” the woman who wasn’t Caroline asked, placing a hand on Stephanie’s arm.
The light touch on the sleeve of her shirt wasn’t a strong enough contact for much more than emotion to penetrate, a sign that the woman kept her thoughts close and controlled. Warmth washed over her and Stephanie struggled to pick through the emotion. Concern and something else. Heat pooled at the base of her abdomen and her mouth went dry.
Stephanie pulled away.
She swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why were you crying?”
“You look like someone I used to know.”
Her lips twitched into a wry smile. “That’s a new one.”
“I should get back to work. Unless I’m fired.”
“Have a drink with me after. You can tell me all about this person you used to know.”
Stephanie nodded even though she was fairly sure it hadn’t been a question.
The woman held her arm out, wrist turned upward in invitation.
“They deactivated our coms when we came in,” Stephanie said.
The woman put her arm down. “I suppose you’ll just have to come and find me
then.”
“I finish at eleven.”
A small smile curved her mouth, making her eyes sparkle. “I can wait.”
* * *
Stephanie paused at the exit, holding her wrist up for the security guard. He checked something on his screen before tapping her wrist. She felt it buzz and nearly tripped as she went through the exit.
There was a message from her contact.
How was your first day?
She composed a reply quickly.
Made a new friend. We’re going for a drink. I’ll check in with you in the morning.
She sent the message and activated the ‘do not call’ setting.
How are you going to find this girl, then? Maia asked.
“Hey.”
Stephanie turned to find the young woman leaning against a private car, its candy pink dome bright even in the amber glow of the evening light cycle.
Rogue Memory Page 7
