Fractured Era: Legacy Code Bundle (Books 1-3) (Fractured Era Series)

by Kalquist, Autumn

  Zephyr gave Paige a condescending smirk, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and left the cubic. When she’d escaped the bunk to the busy corridor beyond, she took deep breaths, holding her head high as she pushed past the milling halfs of singles sector. A group of boys stared at her as she went by, and two of them purposely stepped in her path, nasty expressions on their faces. She pushed past without acknowledging their presence.

  Space them all.

  She walked quickly through the corridors to the main stairwell and headed down to paired couples sector, weaving her way through the throngs of colonists heading up to mess. The scent of boiled quin wafted down from the galley, turning her stomach.

  Most of the colonists she passed were dressed in the green suits of sublevel workers or the black of techs, like Zephyr. A few in light blue suits pushed by—medics. Hopefully Era was still in her cubic and hadn’t gone to medlevel alone. People chattered around her, all talking about the same thing.

  “An airlocker.”

  “Down on the sublevels.”

  Airlocker? A suicide on the ship. And she’d thought security was tighter here. Zephyr pushed the thought from her mind and quickened her pace. As she reached level one, the knots in her stomach rivaled those found in the kak wire shipments the London used to get from the Kyoto.

  This was going to be difficult. After Era’s father died, Era had checked out for weeks, listless, crying constantly. Zephyr had tried to comfort her, but Era started going down to the sublevels, and she’d stayed there all day. She’d brought Zephyr down once to show her why.

  Dritan had been so dirty, smelling of the metalworks and sweat, but as soon as Zephyr had seen the way Era looked at him, and the way he protectively cradled her against his chest, she knew Era had found the other half of her infinity.

  Now he was dead. And Era and Dritan’s unborn child had the Defect. She’d get Era to take more of the grimp. Not enough to get addicted… just enough to numb the pain for the next few days… or weeks.

  When Zephyr reached their cubic, she pulled Era’s shift card from her pocket, where she’d left it the night before. It was against regulation to have someone else’s card, but no one was paying attention to her as she scanned it. The door opened, revealing Era’s helio in the darkness. Relief flooded Zephyr, and she stepped inside quickly. The door slid closed behind her.

  “Era? Are you…?”

  Then she saw who was in the room. Two guards. No Era. The one closest turned toward her, and the helio illuminated his face—his bronze skin, high cheekbones, and the too-long black hair she’d often imagined running her fingers through. “Where’s Era? Why are you—”

  “Zephyr?” His brows went up, and he took a hesitant step toward her. “How did you get in here?”

  The other guard, a dark-skinned man, stepped into their light. He said nothing, just looked from Tadeo to her, and a note of dread rose in her mind, poisoning her earlier relief.

  “Where’s Era? Where is she?” her voice came out strained.

  “Omar, get out,” Tadeo said, his voice hard.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Omar gave Zephyr a blank look, then pushed past to exit the cubic.

  “Where is Era?” Zephyr repeated. “Is she in trouble?”

  Tadeo took a step closer so he towered above her, and Zephyr stumbled back into the wall panel. His face was expressionless, but his brown eyes intense. The yellow glow of the helio made the scene feel wrong, dangerous—like they were trapped together in the depths of the sublevels and not in a paired couples cubic.

  “How did you get in here?” Tadeo asked, his voice deep.

  “I…”

  He noticed the shift card in her hand and lifted it gently, cradling it. Zephyr’s skin ignited from the touch, magnetized like the helio floating beside them. They stayed like that for a moment, her hand in his, neither of them taking a breath.

  His face darkened. He plucked the card from her grasp and flipped it over, working his jaw as he read Era’s name.

  “It’s against regulation for you to have this.”

  Zephyr swallowed and dropped her hand to her side, still warm from his touch. “Era dropped it last night. Give it back. I’ll make sure she gets it.”

  “She doesn’t need it anymore,” he said quietly.

  Zephyr’s heart beat harder. “Why not?”

  “You should leave now.” Tadeo averted his eyes, staring at some point beyond Zephyr.

  She darted out a hand and rested it on Tadeo’s chest, trying to make him look at her. He flinched and grabbed her hand, but didn’t push her away.

  Instead he met her gaze. “We’re conducting an investigation. You can’t be here.”

  “Why? Into what?” Zephyr asked, her voice strong.

  His hand tightened around hers. “Era…”

  “What? Tell me.”

  “She airlocked herself during night shift.”

  Zephyr’s breath caught, and she wrenched her hand away from him as if she’d been burned.

  “Era committed suicide,” Tadeo continued, his voice cold now. He stepped back. “She’s dead.”

  Zephyr let out a little moan and covered her mouth as she fell against the wall panel behind her. She searched Tadeo’s face, but it blurred before her. “No. She would never do that—”

  “You need to go back to your cubic.”

  “No,” Zephyr said, her voice cracking. “No. She wouldn’t do that. Where is she?”

  “She did. She’s gone, Zephyr.”

  “How do you even know it was her? It’s not—”

  “She used her husband’s shift card,” Tadeo said, his voice flat, his expression unreadable. “She accessed a maintenance airlock and committed suicide.”

  “You’re lying! Is this… is this a sick joke?” Zephyr’s throat closed, and she pushed past Tadeo, searching Era’s bunk. Empty. No boots. No suit. Her gaze landed on a scrap of pale green cloth on the shelf—exec standard bedding. Zephyr grabbed it and held it to her chest, wavering on her feet. No. This felt like a trick, like she was watching a holovid. She had to still be asleep in her bunk.

  “It’s true.” Tadeo’s voice sounded like it came to her from the end of a long corridor. “And you need to leave now.”

  Zephyr whirled to face him, dazed. “It’s not possible. She’s… She’s got to be at medlevel… at—”

  “She’s gone,” he said, his voice pained.

  “Did you see her?” Zephyr’s voice rose, but she couldn’t control it. “I want to see her. I know she wouldn’t have…”

  “You can’t. We didn’t… We didn’t recover her body.”

  “Then how do you know it was her? It had to be someone else.”

  “A transport saw her, and we have her shift card access data.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t her.”

  Tadeo took a deep breath and stepped closer. He met her eyes, and his were kinder now.

  “But it was her,” he said quietly. “I read it in the report—she lost her husband and had an abort session scheduled today. The last few airlockers had similar reasons.”

  Zephyr gripped Tadeo’s suit, pulling him closer, forcing him to keep his eyes on hers. “She would not do this.” Her voice broke on the words, and pain surged through her body.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice came out soft, like he really meant it, like her grief was his own.

  Dritan and Era… dead.

  “No!” Zephyr slammed her fists into Tadeo’s chest, hard. He stumbled back and caught himself on the bunk. Tears filled Zephyr’s eyes, and she hit him again and again, until he wrapped her in strong arms and pushed her into the wall.

  A strange expression crossed his face, and he grabbed one of her arms, painfully, and shoved her into the corner. He leaned close.

  “I’m sorry you lost her,” he said, his breath warm against her cheek. “But you need to control yourself.”

  “Let me go.” Zephyr tried to break free, but he squeezed her arm harder. “You’re hurting me.
”

  “Do you want to end up on a forced dose of grimp?” Tadeo hissed.

  “Era wouldn’t do this. I just saw her last night…”

  “People commit suicide,” he snapped, his voice cold. He pushed her into the wall. “They just do, and no one ever knows why. No one can tell you what she was thinking or why she did it. You just have to accept it. Get over it.”

  Zephyr’s heart raced, and lights danced in front of her. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to lose it right here. “I can’t—Get off me.”

  “Get over it, Zephyr. Move on. Airlockers aren’t worth getting put on grimp for.” Tadeo let go of her and jabbed at the button beside the door. “Now go. We have this handled.”

  Zephyr clutched Era’s scrap of cloth to her chest and pushed past the guard waiting outside. None of this felt real. She was going to wake up soon. This was just a dream.

  She ran down the corridor, not seeing the people around her, not hearing them, not feeling their touch as she brushed by them. A molten ball of metal expanded in her chest, and she took quick, small breaths, until spots drifted across her vision.

  She made it to the end of the corridor before the pressure in her chest grew unbearable. The air tasted thin and dirty, as if the air recyc had malfunctioned.

  Too many people on this ship. Never any privacy. Always people staring at her, getting in her way. She searched for somewhere to go, to be alone, but there was only door after door of paired couples’ cubics.

  A group of colonists rounded the corner, blocking her path. She squeezed her body against the wall, clutching the blanket to her as they filled the corridor. She gulped back a sob and tried to suck in breath through her tight throat.

  One of the women looked at Zephyr and narrowed her eyes at the scrap of illegal exec-standard cloth. Zephyr’s gaze dropped to the woman’s pregnant belly, and another sob bubbled up in her throat. She slammed herself through the group, continuing her run down the corridor. They shouted something to her, but she turned a corner, seeking refuge.

  A crowd of women exited a lav, staring at her wide-eyed. Zephyr squeezed by them, through the doors, and frantically searched for someplace, any place, to be alone. She shut herself in the first vacant shower she found and pressed her back against the wet wall. Drops of water seeped through her suit as she struggled to take breaths.

  “No.” She slammed her first into the metal stall, and the door shook. Dizzy, hyperventilating, she sunk down onto the wet floor and pressed her face against her arms.

  I should have been there. This is my fault. I should have stayed with her. Fucked curfew.

  Someone banged on the stall. “Are you alright in there?”

  “Go away.” Zephyr forced the words out.

  Steps receded, leaving Zephyr on her own once more.

  The pain in her chest was heavy metal, crushing her, making her light-headed. Era had been her best friend since they were little girls—her only true friend. She wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be gone.

  Zephyr sobbed, her muscles cramping, her bones aching with the pain of it. A gaping black hole opened up inside of her, and it threatened to swallow her.

  She was suffocating. If she didn’t breathe right, she’d pass out. She made herself think of her father—all the times he’d come for her in a rage. When he’d beat her—on her arms, her back, her legs—all the places he could be sure her suit would hide the cuts and bruises. He beat her until she had no emotions—until she’d learned to turn them off.

  Zephyr tried to hum between ragged breaths. It was the old song she’d hummed to herself a thousand times before. The song that helped her during all the other times she couldn’t breathe.

  Her windpipe opened up, and as oxygen returned to her lungs, she whispered the words.

  They say it's the end.

  Can't close my eyes and pretend

  Fires haven't burned this place up.

  But you and I—we’re enough.

  We’ll get through, ’til the day

  When this nightmare fades away.

  It was stupid, some ancient song she’d found in her family’s files, but it worked. She took in a deep, sputtering breath and stood. Her suit stuck to her, soaked through where it had touched the walls and floor. The pain still twisted deep within her, but now it was buried—unreachable. The numb nothingness would last long enough for her to get back to her bunk.

  The ability to switch off her pain was a gift. She’d shut hers off just as surely as if it were a holo and she’d twisted her wrist.

  Tadeo stared at the door for a full minute after Zephyr left, clenching and unclenching his fists, his heart beating hard against his chest—just waiting for her to come back, to accuse him of having airlocked Era. But she didn’t. Why would she? He sank down on the bunk and hung his head in his hands. He let out a long breath. The grief on her face—he’d recognized it well. It dredged up so much he didn’t want to ever feel again.

  He’d wanted nothing more than to draw her to him, to hold her and tell her he understood. Because he did. He knew what it was like to ask why. Why would anyone choose the shame of airlocking themselves? But being a traitor was a hundred times more shameful.

  Zephyr was a command level exec like him—and it was important her reputation not be tied to Era’s. There was no way Zephyr was a traitor and no way she could have had any idea what Era had been up to. She might hate him now and forever—after how he’d handled this—but it was for the best.

  A knock sounded on the door. Omar—probably wondering what was going on. As Tadeo stood, his helio followed his movements, and something on top of the nearly empty shelf reflected the yellow globe. He swallowed hard and took a step nearer, but he knew what it was before his hand closed over the plastic packaging. His pulse quickened. Grimp.

  He held it up to the light. It was an entire month’s worth, though he would have burned through it in a week. The small blue-green pills called to him, reminded him of the bliss they’d deliver the moment they hit his tongue.

  Tadeo licked his lips and counted them again. Could he have just one?

  He should leave it here. The withdrawal wasn’t worth even an hour of bliss.

  Another knock sounded on the door, more insistent this time, and Tadeo jumped. He cleared his throat and jammed the packet into the pocket on his pant leg. He strode over to the door and opened it for Omar.

  “What was that about, man? Was that… Zephyr Kerrigan?”

  “Yes. She was a friend of the airlocker’s.”

  “You said something about her. Were you two…?”

  “We need to finish searching.” Tadeo turned away and surveyed the room.

  “Uh… Are you sure you’re fine?”

  “I’m fine,” Tadeo snapped.

  Omar frowned, but he backed off, like he always did. “So… What’s our mission?”

  Tadeo worked his jaw and decided to tell him everything—except for Era’s involvement. That could come later, when it was time to search the Repository. Infinitek-willing, no one except Nyssa and Chief would ever know what really happened last night.

  “Like I told you—this was the airlocker’s cubic,” Tadeo said. “Her husband got sent to Soren with the first transport.”

  “He worked with the terrorists?”

  “On the same crew. We believe others may be working against us.”

  Omar’s brows went up, and he glanced around at the cubic nervously. “What are we looking for here?”

  “Anything that doesn’t belong. Something… hidden. Perhaps a data cube.”

  Another knock sounded, and Omar let the maintenance worker they’d called into the room.

  The young sub, her cheek smudged with grease, was carrying a new lume bar. Her eyes widened when she saw Omar and Tadeo by light of the helio. “Sirs. You asked for a lume bar?”

  “Yes. Install it now.”

  She got to work, and Tadeo paced the small cubic, assessing it. Dingy. Not much storage. A tattered blanket lay on the floor n
ext to the double-width bunk. The only storage in the room was the small, empty shelf, and all that was on there now were two canteens and a helio.

  Zephyr had grabbed a scrap of exec-level bedding off the shelf, too. He should have taken it from her. Tadeo walked over and picked up the helio. These weren’t allowed in personal quarters, so this one had likely been stolen from the sublevels. He shook his head.

  Black market trading, maybe. They’d seen it before. It happened on every ship—and the penalty was harsh. If colonists were caught with illegal resources, they were beaten with the rod and assigned strict rations for a month. But an illegally obtained helio was hardly evidence of terrorism or treason.

  The sub finished installing the lume bar, and the room lit up with its harsh light. Tadeo deactivated his helio and hooked it to his belt as the worker climbed down off the bunk.

  “Sub,” Tadeo said. “What’s your name?”

  “Gemma, sir. Gemma Kian.”

  “Are any of the panels screwed or riveted on in here?”

  “Yes, sir. Plenty. But the ones along that wall pop off on their own,” she said, pointing near the door.

  “You’re going to help us take off every panel in here. Everything will be removed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her shoulders slumped beneath his scrutiny.

  “And, Gemma, if you tell anyone what you do or see here, you’ll find yourself taking a trip to Soren. Understand?”

  “Yes… yes, sir. I’ll go get my tools.” She disappeared out the door.

  Omar whistled. “Were they always that obedient? Shoulda started sending ’em down to Soren earlier.”

  Tadeo grunted a non-committal response and worked his fingers beneath the first removable panel. The connectors made a popping sound as they released, and Omar helped him lower the metal slab to the floor.

  Tadeo pushed aside the tangled wires and components beneath, but nothing looked unusual. There was certainly no archive cube hidden here.

  As he and Omar took off the rest of the panels, moving around wires to try to catch a glimpse of anything out of place, he tried not to think of what had happened in this cubic last night. Or of the drugs pressed against this leg that could help him forget.